My grandfather’s Talmud.
Your picture of Uncle Billy.
The innocence of our dog.
The things I never show the
world. The things I never show
myself. The things we believe in.
The dream I no longer need.
The uncertainty at the center
of all my plans. The small flame
that keeps changing names. Now
the days burn like bones, slowly
and all at once. And what we
thought would last burns like
wax. Under it, everything.
This excerpt is from my book, The Way Under The Way: The Place of True Meeting (Sounds True, 2016).
*photo credit: Little Visuals
Originally published at medium.com