I glimpsed the moon through my chaotic mind...
There was not enough space inside
To feel more than what is already stored up,
Waiting...
To be felt.
My rooms were stacked with boxes, lined with dust,
Soot and salt from a thousand sea floods and house fires.
Misfiring adrenals.
So I went back to sitting,
To listening, feeling..
And sent up a prayer to the land of clean and empty..
Where I am starting in
Fresh pink rooms,
aranging furniture
On a sweet smelling summer’s night.