The world is soothed by soft refrains,
life’s lulling opioids amass to mask
all pain and sorrow
If you existed you’d know the same as I
in footsteps misted, feet of holy water
just barely enough to drown in
Chagall 2016
The world is soothed by soft refrains,
life’s lulling opioids amass to mask
all pain and sorrow
If you existed you’d know the same as I
in footsteps misted, feet of holy water
just barely enough to drown in
Chagall 2016
Existence
is is-ism, isn’t
it?
Chagall 2016
I am
in awe
of all.
I name
it God.
Now I’ve
lost the
wonder.
Chagall 2016
She handed me an oar
pointing to the small dugout
there on the bank
Row briskly
downstream
warily
God is
real
Life is naught –
a dream
Chagall 2016
For a moment I think
it’s snowing till
I realize it is
the frenzy of static
that separates beings
made visible this day
by gray wan light.
Chagall 2015
She exclaimed
Such a beautiful church
it’s non-dimensional
I asked
You mean non-denominational,
don’t you?
She retorted
No, come look
She swung open the large wooden door. I walked in.
Oh, I see what you mean.
oh!
o
h
!
m
y
G
o
d
!
.
.
.
Chagall 2015
I love the way
sound sounds
in slow crunchy snowfall
there’s no doubt
that we’re inside
the dome
Chagall 2015
Over time
God becomes
ever more vast
Chagall 2015
Oh, my God
there’s something
behind that!
And so
the world became
3
dimensional.
Chagall 2015
Instinctively she knew
the dholavira symbols
were incorrectly ordered,
she goddess of the Indus Valley.
Chagall 2015