the thing i brought to class on the first day...

she asked
if they were
carved
in tibet?
where did i get that,
she asked?
fourth street
maybe it wasn't tibet
she mentioned
iron thing
heavy
molten
melted together
entwined
lovers
hugging
themselves
back into
one ball
like
and not at all like
the buddha
contemplating his own
navel
turning back
into
the enso
of all life
snake eating its
tail
its tales
spinning in
sacred dance
around the center
of connection
interpenetrating
life
living itself
out loud
and alive
in the rich joy
of his now
of this now
a gift
for my
hymn
of endlessness
it weights the papers
it waits the promise
of eternal
love
loving
itself
in and
out of
time

poet's challenge: a poem on something missing

he is somewhere else
my lover
he is on the moon
he is under the sun
he is riding the pollen to
grecian urns of flowers flowering
in sacred circles of elusian
mysteries unfolding
he is gone, off
picking wildflowers from the side
of some other road
he is missing in action
he is out of time
he is gone
and yet
the sun rises
sends its rays to connect me
and the moon, she comes too
and brings all of her universes
of stars
and love spills out from every basket
dripping joy on every floor
the earth sings, sings the story
and joy is mine once more
so is he missing?
is he gone?
or has he sprung from everything?
is he here?
am i wrong?
or is it love that gives these wings
their joy of flight
throughout the night
a flying kind of dream
i go, we kiss, i wake again
back where he is not
what happens now?
to missing things?
when missing is forgot?