Blessing
for Janet
Open the door.
Let the dust blow in
and know me again, here in the curved wrist
of tree, the salt shade of stone.
Nothing is lost that has known this sky,
that has been this old sea.
Know me again, here in the raven wing
of star, the chill breath of snow.
Everything is found that has known this blessing,
that has been this old, old way.
Know me again. Let the dust be a prayer
that knows no end.
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