Alone

a pilgrim

even with twelve doves

walks alone

Offerings

Morning offerings—

pilgrims dance to chiming bells

in the temple courts.

prayer by prayer

footstep by pilgrim footstep—

the unfolding path

too many late nights

too many early mornings

beggar’s empty bowl

Running the same course

as the river through the woods—

who can follow it?

seven weary rooms

all abandoned long ago—

spring will come again

There is much to learn

from forks and blackened skillets—

if you know their tongue.