Breakshine: (In Memoriam M.H.)

at the crossroads, the open
by the hands draining the heavens
describes its choice of suns

where chaos gets ordered
into clean, or dirty, clarity,
capacious room for walking through

each sun, its own skypath,
and bridgeless the space between each
along the way of shadowed wings

take, i have but one option
once taken, one
till the next door reveals
another moment’s splitting

i must move my body forward
in the manner of blood and muscle
toward what this light is pushing

so let me not worry over destiny,
but care, kindly, for the precious presence
i let come to be

at every crossroads, wherein essence
always hides its face original,
that breakshine
upon which all safeness slowly turns!

 

© J. Celan Smith