Hawk

how do we dwell
inside the day
needing nothing
but what is
how do we find
the innocent
country of heart
all images
and moment
leave the land of
the discursive
full of worry
identity
the birds sing
and the trees
impossibly
lush and bright
a density
of perfection
mind cannot
fathom to swim
into that
or float on
these fine shining
threads the spiders
weave i am
looking for some-
thing elusive
called meaning
while it glitters
all around me
a thousand coins
of light i do
not understand
my place in the
order of things
a hawk circles
in the blue sky