Axis Mundi

snow sunlight

Here. Now. At the mountain’s highest point,
surrounded by snow like the poem’s white
unwritten page, I stand with my staff,
a sunlight shaft through the highest tree
pierces me with the knowledge of myself.



I have written more elsewhere about axis mundi – the center of the world.

Sun Reverie

Curled on a grassy circle of sunlight,

looking up at the clouds, I am

seven years old again. My parents are

healthy, happy and will always be alive.

Sun-powered, I can do anything on Earth.

A dark cloud blocks the window’s sunbeam.

I return to the cold, wood floor.

My old eyes -sun-blinded – burn and tear.

When I stand up, my body protests

and aches from more than just years.