We're still waiting, Love,
for that one transcendent
moment, waiting
for you to show us the magic, the secret, the reason
for hanging on.
I woke in the night and couldn't get back to sleep. I sat in my chair and read some poetry from the large, fine anthology, The Poet's Quest for God, edited by Oliver Brennan and Tom Swift. I fell asleep repeating the lines above from the end of Kim Goldberg's poem, "Possessed."
(The camera is facing the eastern sky made pink by the setting sun. The gold in the window and through the trees is from the setting sun in the western sky behind the camera.)
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