One day she revealed
that the opacity of things
was but the glean.
174
with few exceptions,
they preferred the luxuriant,
the profuse, the fertile.
yet seeing that they would often
lose themselves within it,
she had her ways to remind them
of the essential.
173
many found her vague
or inapparent;
yet she was anything but.
whenever necessary
she would supply
the world as proof.
172
it was also necessary
to become aware
that blood
coursed through the veins
of silence.
171
for those who had lost sight of her,
she left a trail of tears
dappling the pale blue of the sky.
169
however brief, some would still,
occasionally, let the world
reveal itself as luminous.
168
and there were even times
when all that she could taste
was the bliss of an empty bowl of tea
166
and there were those too
who often without realizing it
took seat upon the remnants of light.
165
164
she wavered gently between,
so that one always had the choice
whether to drift or drown.