The last one

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                                      I’m not holding

                                      for past

                                      just wondering

                                      what essence

                                      makes me tickle

                                      now, when presence

                                      of gray days

                                      puddle in the bowl

                                      to suit

                                      the angel holly water

                                      I absorb from sky

                                      there are white/yellow

                                      light color

                                      the winter dress

                                      even warm still less

                                      variable nights and days

                                      song to live for hours

                                      of outline frames and sounds

                                      somebody else’s happiness

                                      my new normal moral

                                      moderate portal of

                                      compassion and overtones 

                                      of spirit’s meandering

                                      trying new skins on

                                      and burning old habits as

                                      being too comfortable at

                                      the path of spiritual

                                      journey…