Finding Gratitude
I stretch out my hands, my arms,
the full length of my body
and plunge into the pools of gratitude.
Letter of Forever
For centuries and millennia,
Imprinted with your rippled gaze
A thousand lifetimes we meet,
No less potent than the first.
The Sins of Our Holy Mother
Forgive me, children,
in my stained-glassed pride
I tried to hold us all together,
masking a disfigurement of peace—


I understood what she was getting at. If life continues again and again, where does meaning live? What’s the point of wanting anything, building anything, or becoming anything at all?