One thing it is to solve for an unknown,
another to experience it. I stare at nine
red origami cranes strung on nylon
filament, weighted with a red glass
crystal at the end. If you traversed
the world, what would you pursue?
On a night with a new moon, owls
called, back and forth, over the house;
my words branch into the dark
and become visible speech: they’re
mycelium running, replenishing
roots and all. We may flit to a sunrise
over a Kilauea white sand beach,
but the infinite glitter of the world’s
here in our arms, here or not at all.
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