In Faith.

Isn’t it about
the rippling, that
reaches out

From that one
pebble, leaf — or a
casting of sand?

in a rhythm, the
watch full, Seer.

Sprinkling like
a constellation
of circled echos

That is the time
of your searching:
listening and

Looking for
those places of
resonance, that

Sound of calling
that only some can
hear: and know.

You stand
there, culling
the little fires

The voices, the
rings of the human
chains: those connected

communicate —

And they cultivate,
cult — like rumor.
You stand there

Reaching and
listening for the
telling of that

Which is true.
But forgotten —
or unheard

By the other-wise
occupied, taken
up with too much

Of the other
things, to see
what is happening

Now. You stand
there: call out
those, the visions.

Some listen; some
not, but you go
on, sentient —

Guided by what
is out there, how
it is told

These stories
of knowing, the
great turns in

The River, that
is the flow
of Humankind.

Well wishing / TSG / 5.55am
Decatur Island / SanJuan County

Tim Girvin