Quantum Gardening

All things are events
Bubbling up, losing balance,
Getting on top of themselves.
Storms sent by chance
Send us this way and that.
The world curves
Into everything
Large, small --time, mind,
Space and all events that
Serve life, make it
Full --the world
Is not flat.
Tree trimming or
Tending irrigation in
A boggy hole -- up, down,
The compass points are
Always with you.
You can't go in one
Direction without
The others too.

Antiparticle Of A Photon Is A Photon

First there is wilderness
With a voice in it
Sent all ways at once,
Echoing at random upon
A becoming collocation--
Arrives in minds surprised
As by a healing tune or
Curtain opened on an
Indoor moon.
This black flower sends
Its petals into night,
But silent?
I don't know, things said
Sometimes leave me
But silences, never.
After all, where
Would they go?

Perhaps Because I Have Done This Before

Each moment contains
Some quality of the next
In continuum, in text
An enjambment, as rain
Tonight stores starlight
For opalescent fog.
In the morning, birds
Mutter in hedges,
Silence is
Broken by a barking dog
And this garden loses edges
To rising mist.
New worlds are
Made of this: calm uncertainty
That will grow
Wings, feathers, fur;
From this weather
Occur, live, be,
And roam the future
Of memory.

Pool Between Paths

Among papyrus,
Bamboo, cosmos,
Stars on the surface
Of the water wriggle
Apart and the
Moon dances.
Reflection neither
Begins here nor ends.
It is how
Light subtends the
Mind and what
Unlit waters
Leave behind.

That Blue Thing

Darkness spills downhill,
Pools under trees and
Earth turns me to stars.
I locate Venus, Mars,
And that blue thing,
Then head home.
Doppler effect and
Some old ricochet you see,
Astonishingly old,
It or us rebounding,
Heading here, this garden--
A bridge of light sounding
Blue notes to this
Transpontine eye.
I don't know why, but
I think of love under
The blue thing,
Cross the shadows
And always head home.