to our windows in the Villa Serbelloni
and then in that dark month
after your brother died
(a loss compared to which
the fire where you lost all your possessions
was a mere bonfire)
I knew then there were parts of you
no man will never understand
but I have no need to
you have taught me to listen
to the emotions which rest on my heart
like the hushed mists
hanging over this dark September lake
and to that ever-present friend my breath
the inward seashore
on our journey into the earth
where you lis ten also
(we are more mindful of each other
because mindful of something larger)
which spirit inhabits
(let me say to the Sutras
that opening my heart this way
is like entering the Stream)
What has emerged besides pain
in these four years
since you lost your brother
cousins uncles father
is a love facing death
not just remembering death
I listen to your heart
