What Edges Hold
By which I mean those lines framed in certainty: the demarcation of sunlight and shadow. Kami signifies not spirit, but rather that force above man.
Never religion, but life itself: the mountains, trees, the rocks. Lightning.
Or waves, thundering off the coast, lured by the moon.
Stirring the water with a spear, Izanagi dripped an island into being.
Separate the ordinary through limitation, by practice, by ritual and space.
Another night in the twisted trees. The god-shelf.
Recognize that wind respects no borders.
Knowing that to the east questions may respond to answers I have long
suspected, I look elsewhere. After the vowel, the consonant.
Though torii differ in style, each retains two posts and a crosspiece.
After the consonant, the winnowed tunnel, extinguished light.
At the gate, bow respectfully, then enter. Ladle water from right to left,
then left to right. Pour it into your left hand, then cleanse your mouth.
Invert and regard the precipice.
I have placed one foot in their sphere. The other still searches.
This originally appeared in April 2014 as part of Boston Review‘s National Poetry Month Celebration.


love this.
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Thank you.
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This is a beautiful rendering of the flimsy edges of self/not self, the limits of language, looking beyond language to recognize forces, time, space unraveling conventional, patterned perception. May I borrow this to share with my writing group?
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Thank you, Gary. Yes, of course. Feel free to share.
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Fascinating
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Thanks, Derrick.
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My other foot also searches. Sometimes hesitant, but curious. Thought provoking piece.
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Thank you, Olga.
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Stunning piece. Reminds me why I fell in love with Japan.
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You’re very kind, Sarah. Thank you.
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The wind respects no borders- Love that!
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The wind, the water, the air… 🙂
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Sunlight…
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Yes!
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I find this very moving. Never religion, but life itself. And… the god-shelf! Thank you.
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Thank you, Linnet. In my shack, it’s more of a god-sill than shelf. 🙂
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You nailed it right here for me – Never religion, but life itself: the mountains, trees, the rocks. Lightning’
That line for me exhaled into every other word in the poem as breaths.
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Thanks, Tammy. I’m so glad it breathes for you.
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Fantastic insightful piece. Thank you for sharing.
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I’m so pleased you found it so. Thank you.
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This is beautiful. ❤
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Thank you.
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This is very calming to me for some reason…it draws me in
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Thank you. I’m pleased it affected you that way.
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This is so great! Thank you VERY much for writing it! 🙂
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Thanks, Daniel. The poems in this series marked a huge leap in style and content, all for the better. I’m not sure why it took so long to get there, but I finally did.
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“I have placed one foot in their sphere. The other still searches…”
This line holds many paths to the soul, like the torii themselves – while gently suggesting that the sacred spaces the torii open up to are as much within us as the termini of the stone paths ahead.
You write and I grow… beautiful…
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I like to think that edges (borders, paths, etc.) are often more fluid than they appear, that we perceive barriers when we could perceive something else.
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