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Your Sleepless Shadow

Lost in the Unlimited

Being Here, Finally

Unquiet Dawn

Moon With Her Sail Full of Myths

Soft and Final Landing

Sacred Opulence

Moonset at Winter's End

Desolate and Perfect Now

Unfinished Invocation

An Audience of Stars and the Rest of It

Now and After the Reign of Galaxies

Liquid Heart

Rehearsal for Something Better

Startrail to the Absolute

Broken and Glorious Life

What to Pack For Your Departure

Rhapsody of the Realms

Irrepressible Flame

Vanishing in the Blazing Night

Beside the Still Fallen Sky

On the Trail Between Orchids and the Otherworld

Earth Cry

Some Things Beyond Dimension

Explorer in the Undivided

One Spark is a Galaxy

Unforgiven Rapture

Collective Dream

Now That You Are Infinite

Transcendence of Fury

What Little I Know

One With the Never-ending

Earthbound Supernova

The Majesty of Destruction

In the Infinite Now

Why We Love Dogs (A Little Something in Celebration of National Dog Day)

Postcards from Eons Past (Images from the James Webb Space Telescope)

Sanctuary of Flame


Glistening in the Dark


Words Like Smoke and Sand

The First Iris

The Totality of You

Winter Meditation

The Language of Wonder

Storms of Jupiter

Digital Chains

Plunging to Heaven

On the Shores of Cepheus

Why We Love Dogs (A micropoem)

Ascension in Gold

Crucible of Light

In the Last Green Hours

The Angels of Hawksbill Mountain

Beyond the Gates of Orion

Sanctuary Within

Sitting With Stars

Light of the Tempest


Follow the Birdsong

Celestial Rite

One More Moon Beside Me

Legacy of Ash

Born in a Field of Light

Resurrection in Albemarle County

Dialogue With Silence

Moving Past the Dream

Deadly and Merciful Blue

Sky Full of Legends

On the Border of Earth and Being

Who You Really Are

Council of Stars

Scattered As One

Unfinished Bridge To the Infinite

Scenes from Within

Moon of Secrets

Memories of the Kingdom

In the Church of Ordinary Miracles

Finding Religion in Sperryville

Theater of Shadow and Light

Sapphire Birth

Web of Infinity

Voices from a Choir of Stars

Traveler in the Unseen

Into the Silence

A Soft Ascent

Through a Sacred Forest

Innocent Questions

On the Bridge After a Storm


Resurrection in Albemarle County

They say dig two graves before you stalk
the ambrosial prize of revenge, and I did,
until my own grave appeared sweeter,

so I've come here to the mountain to hunt
the reclusive angels I suspect hoard serenity
for cases like me,
but so far I've only been baptized by waves of wind
and accepted into the order of everyday wonders,
even the wild ginger, the breathing field, the violets,
closer to any prayer I've ever attempted.

Yes, the world fractured us, and we can't unhear it
or unsee it and we certainly can't unfeel it and
there's no dismantling a tower so tightly
packed with rage.

A weathered flag hangs with defiance
from a dozing gray barn below the skyline—
the wheeling hawks aren't impressed, and the
colors of freedom look unconvincing
next to the evening sky: a commotion of
phosphorescence and peace. A grander finale
could not be of this world, but still
no angels, no rest.

So what's it like to to step out of the snickering
riddle of day and into the perfection
of nothing?

No wings, no answers needed there, just an
unremarkable and wandering now—
a motionless flight in all directions.

But still I'd rather thirst
than drink the courage . . .
So close.

Over there is a gift, a life actually,
tethered to unabashed joy and also its shadow;
after all, it's one current, one universe,
one thought.

The only catch:
Forgiveness is the only bridge out of here.

And all of Heaven holds its breath. So do the finches
and wrens in a cathedral of sound; so do the
mountains with their countless shades of happiness,
still unmoved in godly indifference; so do the
wasps fizzing in and out of shadow worlds; also
the territories of soul we have to believe in
or nothing makes sense.

No, I won't do it for my enemies, but I will for
the satin sleep I deserve, for the merciful death of
blistering blame, for a heart that doesn't twist and claw
itself to death a thousand times a day.

I take a step.

So this is what it means to see.

Patricia Joan Jones

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