can’t say I’m moved by moving water
or by surrounding trees
by leaping silver salmon
leaping into seagull feet-
can’t say I’m moved by nature-
it’s the spaces in between
that get me.
liquid life, the stuff of
gently aging days
like a god in agonizing love melted all the world’s beauty
the centers of daisies
the curve of a tiger’s shoulder
saffron and passion and peaches and the hunger
of a wildfire ten thousand miles across
and then he spilled it everywhere
and it came alive on me
and beneath the seagulls’ wings
and in my mother’s hair
everywhere
oh, the glory green of those trees beneath
that graceful golden peace
tasted so sweet
and it sung as it spilled through the river
following salmon backs upstream
and after the show as I turned to leave
I caught a glimpse of the half-moon
fixed forever in that gilded light’s
dear love.