The Place
There are times
when a weightless calm
lays across the evening
as if something beyond
imagining has curled up
and gone to sleep at the foot
of a starlit sky. It recalls
drowsy winter nights
in front of a fire, the quiet ambience
of a room, the stirring of dreams
from deep in their nurseries.
Something in us likes to return
to here as if this ideal has been
set within us, a place to rest
and gather what has been broken,
to let ourselves be healed.
And yet it hides in the hurry
and neglect, a place passed
on our way to somewhere else,
forgotten until such an evening
comes when all is too much
and what is broken cries out
to be healed.
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