from an evolving collection: Temazcal: The Steam House Chronicles

A great unstitching is taking place

followed by threads being pulled through

and patterned after The Great What Could Be.

In the deep-honeyed night, a hand reaches for another.

One is burnt-umber.

The other speaks of clouds and mist.

Beneath the same canopy of sorrows,

a lightning flash

a subtle smile

a knowing.

We’ve been here before, haven’t we?

Paddling along Clear-Awareness River,

the smoke of remembrance envelops everyone.

We make our way home,

alone,

for another night of dreaming.


(c) 2019 / Frank LaRue Owen / purelandpoetry.com

sound: Devotion To The Shrine / The Secret Well / The Holy Fountain / Ruven Nunez

image: Igor Ovsyannykov


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