If this is what it is to be calm,
To feel the buffeting of waves
And keep the flexibility of palm,
Then let this be what saves
This endless peace of mind.
A medicine that flows, drifts...
A sheet of paper signed
And folded into white rifts,
Valleys and slopes of ink,
That memory might link.

***

Happiness is...
...a sunset edged in royal purple and golden gleam.
...a familiar song on a sun-weathered red radio.
...a roughness of old paper under fingertips.
...a perfume of clean sheets from a warm dryer.
...a lingering sweetness of mint on the tongue.

***

Quiver like a drifting feather:
Take refuge in the wind.
A bird on wing
lets go and
falls
up.