Ghost Mapping



Tracking a whisper across frontiers of change,
I collect travel technology;
preparations, facts,
for the atrium of unknown.

Caverns in my heart and belly where trust would be,
I used to call this feeling loneliness

but today I must relinquish my church of planning,
a homey voice in my telephone pocket,
for the land that roars ahead of me, stretching stranger

and wider than I can configure.


— Julia Daye


Last Friday, I met a man who hugged me so deeply,
he somehow transmitted into me a cloud
of wakeful peace,

straight past a layer of cerebral
exhaustion, straight through my body
and into my heart.

I thought he must be quite courageous
to allow these things to flow as
quickly as they arrived.

I recalled in shame how I had in the past
hoarded love, hoarded light, hoarded sweetness
in all its manifestations.

And I no longer needed to clamor for love
in so many places and things
because, this day,

in his infinite salutation,
it all was.