Stream

A silent stream of breathing
sweeps away the chatter
of the argument.
Snow melt cleansing joy
spills down to the valley
of Presence.
We first met in the place
where this melting and
spilling began.
Now we have bodies,
nourished by the grace
of dust and tears
in the wild tangled greening
of the broken heart.
We meet here now.



Photo: I took this of Mt. Rainier from Gobler's Nob