On the other side of maybe
I meet a lot of folks
perhaps Jess will open the door
between the tiger and the lady
but you see there is nothing

not even the smile of a Cheshire cat
can disappear
inside a room too big
or too small
for gratitude
to enter
but if I'm right, a poet just might
slip through the cracks in its opening

and the light
in the perpetual night
is nowhere to be seen
but in his single eye
of awareness
dissolving like honey
in the breath we breathe
like communion
on a homeward-bound spaceship
to the dark side of the moon,

fingers pointing
like broken sticks
and the rock wears away
from the constant water