we tell the same story again and again

the same stories s

Is this
what we say when
words cross, intersect with
essence?  What point is created?
is it

an end,
a beginning
meeting as paradox,
the sum we call zero?  Nothing
happens

and yet
everything is–
a birth peeling off time
into all possibilities–
is it

the moon
reflecting sun,
breath and sky dissolving
layer by layer?  Finally
the sea

returns
the well-worn path
as a mercurial
map, constantly rearranging
the bones.

Is this
a beginning,
a birth peeling off time
layer by layer?  Finally,
the bones.

the same stories close up s

Colleen challenged us to write a garland cinquain for her Tanka Tuesday prompt.  I’ve used synonyms for the words provided this week by Linda Lee Lyberg, nimble and enigma.

I do seem to tell the same story over and over again.  But perhaps I’m getting a bit better at it.