before the sky begins to grey

pull down stars and pour them in a bag
put the moon away in careful wrapping
push trees aside to clear a space
turn back the wind for now

roll up the carpet of voices
brush away stones of distraction
fall back into my arms
just close your eyes and breathe

it makes no difference if we find
what we think we are looking for
so long as we do not forego
what there is to find

the space between breathing out
and breathing in is our assent
the sky burns quiet into morning
and timing is everything

© 1995 by Michael McNeilley
Graphic © Janet Bernichon

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