Sunday, May 17, 2009
THE MEANING OF SIMPLICITY
I hide behind simple things so you'll find me;
if you don't find me, you'll find the things,
you'll touch what my hand has touched,
our hand-prints will merge.
The August moon glitters in the kitchen
like a tin-plated pot (it gets this way
because of what I'm saying to you),
it lights up the empty house and
the house's kneeling silence---
always the silence remains kneeling.
Every word is a doorway
to a meeting, one often cancelled,
and that's when a word is true:
when it insists on the meeting.