FORM

We are in the dark
about how this works

Or even what this is
or what works even is

Yet with each rotation
the vessel comes into view

I can feel you and me
are making a bigger thing

Even though half of me
and half of you

Is behind the skin
feeling too clumsy for aim

The soul doesn’t know form
it knows substance

And substance, like clay
privileges nothing save weight

As we hold firm, awareness
gives the bowl a shape

Don’t look now, to me
and I won’t look to you

In the breathless circularity
dreaming with our hands

Eyes can be a place
too sharp for God to stand

Remember things
we used to know

Like how trees hold secrets
and how, for absolute certain

The wide-lipped thing
we devise as honesty

Will hold something sweet
to pour out for the world