Wild geese. 

In Sung China,
two monks friends for sixty years
watched the geese pass.
Where are they going?
one tested the other, who couldn’t say.
That moment’s silence continues.
No one will study their friendship
in the koan-books of insight.
No one will remember their names.
I think of them sometimes,
standing, perplexed by sadness,
goose-down sewn into their quilted autumn robes.
Almost swallowed by the vastness of the mountains,
but not yet.
As the barely audible
geese are not yet swallowed;
as even we, my love, will not entirely be lost.

–Jane Hirshfield

Questions Before Dark


” As this day ends, and before sleep
when the sky dies down, consider
your altered state:
has this day changed you?
Are the cornerssharper or rounded off?
Did youlive with death?
Make decisions that quieted?
Find one clear word that fit?
At the sun’s midpoint did you notice a pitch of absence, bewilderment that invites
the possible?
What did you learn from things you dropped and picked up and dropped again?
Did you set a straw parallel to the river, let the flow carry you downstream?”

Jeanne Lohmann
The Light of Invisible Bodies