The Squaring Knife

by Michael Joseph Ferguson

My shadow's wake
plum and full with longing

And the silent moving meadows below indicate
my altitude has grown even more pronounced

The sea of consciousness
has feathered me

My fears have morphed into
confections of sweet honey laughter

Patience,
like a squaring knife
has aligned me, perpendicular
to that strange and lustrous
Light

That now peers out from behind everything.

21-Jun-2009

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