East of the Sun, West of the Moon
In a place far between the moon dipped in cool light and the blaze,
chafed air bounces and settles in the lightening dark.
Far between in a space that is silent and far from place,
air releases from vaporous lungs hung east of the sun.
Far between, gusts seal up their mouths so thermal drafts remain and return.
East of the sun there are things shrouded in light.
Light that hides and air that holds — holds in the between.
Far between where space prickles and leaps, all things wait.
Places and climbing ideas halt. Halt.
West of the moon angels sing.
White that is unclothed by darkness drips into air that moves like liquid gold.
White west of cool light where echoes fall into.
Soft like sight through closed eyes — that is west of the moon.
Buoyant is the far between.
Far between rising and rising.
East of the sun, west of the moon
substance is secondary.
Dreams and held-breath fill between.
Fill and fall out, fall in, fall to glitter.
Beacon between, air that holds, breath that waits, and dreams that endure –
Don’t move inland.
Hold east, hold west.