when we suddenly—between the vision and
the next thought—when we suddenly
lose it.  when in the middle of reacting

without waiting for the next breath—

wandering confusion’s halls—words escaping
like shattering glass—silence destroyed
then just as suddenly silence

restored…is to stumble into a field,

tiny flowers clustered among grass blades
sipping as they do, dewdrops each morning,
our great unconscious feet, dead weight
of our negatives, our assumptions—

the judge’s black shadow— crushing
the creamy petals each smaller
than a newborn’s smallest toenail
why are our first questions

always—how to stop this? end this? finish
it off? instead of: how has this come to be? 
how is it rooted in us?  how can we reunite
to shelter the flowers

reaching for first light—dewdrops
spilling off the thick growing grass

wetting our shoes?
                                    7/9/2015