[Posted with permission of the author]

I'm afraid to ask the right questions.
The ones that elicit instruction and
guidance: how to hold a tree against
weather, my hands against time.
If only I hadn't come to this,
seen how shadows hold a greater light
across the darkness. No one will believe me.
And when I return I will invest everything
with strange new qualities.
The morning sun will brighten my room
in a way that will seem new, and when
I wake to it, leave my bed
and cross the cool floor to hold
the pitcher, feel the good clay
and its weight of clear water,
I will think how the moment
is so beautiful no one
would ever know it's not perfect