In Limbo

Stillness watches over me
like a damp cloud
hovering, waiting.
I ignore it
in my whereabouts
rushing from one task
to the next
overshadowing what is here.

The invitation to go underground
is vague.

The dark, moist morning
beckons me
to expand into it —
recoiling is not an option
seeing in the dark, is.

Lilies at Dusk

Warm and glowing
lilies at dusk
catch the last rays
of the sun
and reflect them back
toward the seer
who looks with
uncharted eyes.

Depths abound
when no one is watching
when we are not
blinded by our own eyes
when our hearts open
and the witness
holds no limits
nor directs the view.