i believe it's there
beneath the piles of crackling brush,  the infinite
snow
abandoned wells of frozen water     it's there
in the tinkling of the wind chimes
the empty roads
the pitted rock ledges
the moon's alms of light
the bamboo bending under snow
there in the seven-story pagoda
the paper that thirsts for ink
the heart that beats with the farthest star     it's there
the apostrophe in the scripture
the question you keep hidden     the stinging sleet
the ghosts between your night sheets
the empty closet in your hours      there
in the bird
you hold against your grief
there in the city of wrecked ships
there  in the rays from the fingertips of a saint
there in the swamp's frozen lilies
laughing in a thousand mirrors
there in the footnotes of your calloused shoes
there in the country of the past
there in the lustrous, untouched core of the future
there, where a blue note sets forth
in the four-sided cement-ness of the wall

it is there / love by a barred window