The silver forest

All the wounded
the wandering
the returning years
sing to us through
the stone gate
shadows and light
still, my heart shines
with song, wind plays
memory’s poem
like a silver forest
and we walk on
together

Shining thing

To reach the end
and begin again
in dark water
in the light
seeing every breath
and every making
the heart, the hands
waking

(From my notebook.)

photo credits (where not otherwise credited)

“tunnel” / Cyclonerik / Shutterstock