my thinks my knows

I

I think a thing I do a thing

no one to it - entitled 

unseen unknown

no proof of presence 

footprint in the sand

did I think it did I do it

if no proof came forth 

11

my thinks my knows

filling hours shared with hair

shook from four legs 

breathless my heart 

swells for pitter-patter

in still corners cooled

humming lulls lightly 

little paws kneading 

in slumber she runs free

III

the tether tied to whence 

I came is whence I’ll return 

take me to your river 

I wanna go home 

sing, sing a song, sing it out

haters here haters there

hating hate-hate haters everywhere 

hating you hating me

what we think is what we’ll be

happy in the white space unseen

holding space 

for others

in their heartlight

gloriously unfolding 

into a gray medium 

of existence 

without announcement 

happy in the white space 

unseen