The past is present

as fingers are to wrists.

May all realities reign

in a coalition of active curiousity.

Well may I resist a cell’s wisdom.

Still, rain will fall.

So, history, fly with me.

Show me I’m safer

to know what is now

in fact and wound and hope.

Remind me

why you’re still here.

An angel or umbrella?

Part anchor?

Part rudder?

Nameless, still, 

I know you:

circle of gossamer.

I may be sore 

I may be soaring

You surround it all

Binding yet bendable

Blind to nothing 

Never broken

for long.

Naomi Byrnes


Theme: acceptance