Before the day winds
back again
I sit,
between the dark and light
entranced by images
of night
that float around within
transfixed by what
life’s all about.

The answers seem so close
they can be touched,
and yet destroyed,
if clutched,
as if the seeking dissipates the end,
as if
the mind waits patiently to bend
what it
already knows:
that seeking always flows
and answers always tend.

The night brings focus
to a process
that the seeking doesn’t end
but returns to its beginning
and begins yet once again,
while a snake
in a circle
under lucid drops of rain.

Bruce Cooper

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