peep hole



I walked up to the peep hole

of my mind ­

a brown, knotted 

hole in the barn door

i’d built

to hide

what i might not become.


I looked through that crack

touching what I really want

with a raven’s eye,

my life to be.


It’s not so much the sight

of a tumbling garden

the shaded sheep grazing

a bun of gray hair

spun up by wilting, happy hands -

it was the brave act

of gazing

towards an opening.

the wild life

the sober life

aligned with The Divine

that will be