Faith

picking myself up
from all the times I’ve fallen
back in love with you
–
floating ice-
piling up
downstream

gilded double doors
open with empty promises
of false salvation
–
heavy leaden sky-
swollen riverbanks
poised to overflow

staring deep into
an empty sheet of paper
conjuring the muse
–
winter’s canvas-
a palette of pine
and fresh snow

by the temple gates
burning incense left as a
simple offering
–
hot springs-
steam rising from
the snow monkeys

pulled taut and snapping
the pole holding fast the flag
standing at half mast
–
icy rain
her cheeks
freshly wet

the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light
–
gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky

jewel in the lotus
tibetan prayer wheels turned by
cascades of water
–
a winter dawn
snow skates across
the temple threshold

bone tired, weary
driven forward all the while
dragging this baggage
–
shimmering heat
an old prospector
pulls at his burro

lingering on a
sea of empty promises
wet with resentment
–
dripping-
an eagle’s
empty talons

flooded rice paddies
on the roadside sheaves of straw
drying in the sun
–
high spring sun
nimble fingers
sowing wheat