Awaiting Thunder, He Dreams
If all our voices were to meet in the atmosphere
what could the rain achieve?
When we give nothing we have nothing.
Is it enough to listen?
Wisps and heaps, ripples and sheets.
Accumulated, dispersed, fingers
unknotting death’s
grip, steps taken around the flames,
in caution, in delight,
imagining the greatest undoings.
“Awaiting Thunder, He Dreams” was first published in Red River Review, in August 2018.
O at the Edges 
Ah – this resonates with a recurring desire to be back on the mountain walking around the fire at Circle center for a boost to “unknotting death’s / grip, steps taken around the flames” – death’s grip perhaps a grab tugging one across a one-way threshold, tugging hearts of mourners left behind into awareness, grief keeping them circling reality’s flames.
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I think each grief has its own gravitational source that keeps us in orbit around reality’s flames.
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