02 Feb Back 40: Still Point

for Lauren

Raven at canyon rim
fast by talon to stone
quietly casts its body
upon torrents of wind 

cottonwood banked below
anchored to soil by root
drifts a veil of seed
over gale of riverflow

and all along the ridge
the feeling of a question
surrendered 

and all along the water
the feeling of a question
abeyant

the vital argument between
where I might go
and where I have been
silently circling