Echoes Series: A Variation on Heidegger

When the floods weave grasses into

the fence and a tideline of twigs

is left at the bare wood’s twisting

edge …

we make the best of The Given.

When silence settles on the kitchen

and the oil-lamp stands like a

harvest stook on the cleared table …

we are glad of The Ordinary.

When the field shines like a star

and the morning’s hills are

faint in the last gold of the

afterglow …

we are amazed by The Mystical.