Soft Things

I look across the water
and in a drifting fog
Seemed to see all the
Way to the East
Where a pine in classic style
Leans and dips its
Hat to the waters
Every needle on every branch
Taking me
Across time and place
So that I rested watching
On a bed of moss
Like Kokadera
Longing to feel it on
All my length
That memory of soft things.

Particles

Particles of Snow
So light in the current
Swirled up from the blanketed earth
Or down from the wispy clouds
Where even the infinitesimal
Multitudinously form sums
Making the impossible possible
And the uncreated
Born again