Posts Tagged ‘in between spaces’


with thanks to Rebecca Mullen for showing me the doors

And if a door closes

before another opens,

well, sometimes in the hall

between those doors

I find the precarious beauty

that can only be met

when I am not quite safe,

not quite certain, not quite

a self, and wholly here.

I’m talking tiny dust mote

in the deep field beauty—

beauty that refuses

to be named.

This is what it’s like

to learn to trust—

to live with one arm forward,

one arm back and feel

marvelously stretched,

perilously opened,

like a flute, like a kite,

like a wing.

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Between the morning and the noon,

between the never and the soon,

between invisible and seen,

between the waking and the dream

I’ll meet you there, amidst the mists,

and walk in different worlds at once—

both here and there, both then and now—

I’ll meet you in this space somehow

and there between confined and free

we’ll find what’s between you and me.

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It wasn’t the moon
that swooned me, but
the edge of the moon,
cratered and rough,
the shadow line
where substance ends
and space begins.
So much depends
upon a curve—
beyond that arc
no ground to stand
on, only dark.
The seam between
the dark and light
let me wander

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