"The Days We Don't Get Back"

These are the sundial days.

There are griefs upon us we cannot fathom.

We mustn't become numb.


In the midst of all this, there’s still the sun.

Small chirps and flutters.

Cypress branches swaying.

Amber light pulsing through green leaf stillness.

Hints of gold.

Breezes bearing a touch of peace.

Chickadees sweet-sweet-swooning.

Bright days cooling, growing more cloaked.


We are called

to follow moon-silver tributaries of dreaming.

Inner eyes opening.


There are griefs upon us we cannot fathom.

We mustn't become numb.

Practice becomes a spirit-boat in rough waters.

We mustn’t become numb.


If your heart is brittle, practice.

If your heart is lit aflame, practice.

If your soul has been shattered, practice.

If your soul is filling again, ancient-well-deep, practice.


These are the days and nights we won’t get back.

Let us wash our face in autumn moonlight, and practice.


As the Cornish knight

said to his children

on the eve of his departure for battle,

“We are being prepared for the spirit world.” *


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image: Francesco Lo Giudice

sound: "Lichen Lattice" from Intersecting Skies by Roy Mattson

*a line from Ethan Hawke's wonderful book, Rules For A Knight