Open Space at The Zoo Fence

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Poetry
by
Douglas White
chartx@gmail.com

Open Space

What Secrets?

What secrets,
can I keep, that you,
cannot find.
Not in secret places.
Even old shoes leave tracks … Everywhere,
but nobody remembers the steps they took.
So search.
Follow those signs and symbols,
discuss their origins debate the leadings,
Keep wondering.
As superficials fade, so you will forget,
and in this happiness, think you have found … Everything.
Then I … will have my secret … You,
cannot find.

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Falling

It is not what we gain
– that matters,
but what we lose.
Not what we know,
but what we don’t know.
Not our living, but our dying.
Ahhh, let’s breathe,
that sigh of relief,
and let all be for naught,
for it’s as sweet as rain.
It is sweet, as rain.

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You Are The One

On occasion in my mind,
I wonder if you feel what I feel.

Then I laugh to think of such absurdity.

Yes, there are secrets lovers share,
But neither can tell the other,
No matter how they try.

Funny how we try.

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My Heart Knows

My heart knows your heart.

How can that be!

How can YOU be inside me?

If you are, here now, in me,
then all this talk, our words, thoughts,
have become, at best, vain, meaningless,
at worst, painfully alienating.

I should be afraid of myself …

But we’re safe from our words,
when first we close our eyes,
place hands over our heart, breathing in—out,
and feel a heartbeat
that knows no owner.

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Wake, My Love

Wake up, My Love.
I can hardly believe you’re here.

Yesterday, I wondered what was wrong.
I looked everywhere for you,
And no matter where I looked,
you weren’t there.

Now, this morning’s luminance shines
behind and through all I thought was real.
No wonder I couldn’t find you,
You weren’t there, You were here.

Let me kiss you with the kissing that forgets,
who said yesterday.

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Who’s Here?

One never knows who is here, or there.
Appearances sure don’t tell.
So what of space and separations?
Our eyes are certainly set in separate heads.
But when I look into your pair, I see nothing, just little black mirrors.
And what of my set?
– another empty mirror peering into yours
– of void seeing into void, reflecting nothing into nothing?
Yet these orbs circle some unseen center,
some Presence.

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