White Space

White Space

There it is. Right here. Not there.
Take that distance in the form of the letter
T the man outstretched the road
with two choices and breathe
for the white space is here

and now a resting place
a place of letting go in the shallows
where the effort relaxes and the poet
sings through the spinal chord
and every guitar resonates

without a single string being plucked
each word untangling itself
from your childhood fears of periphery
wooded dark enticing ensnaring you
with its magnetic candy

till you become unstuck from your sheets
and scream out in confusion against
a night oppressed by imagery
in the cave on the linoleum the ceiling
where's the mother's voice when you need it

okay she would say it's okay
you're just having a bad dream
and light somehow dispelled
those difficult words though
I do wonder if I'm old enough yet

to understand even the things I say
myself and so I say it's here
the four corners and the inner circle
the loops and dots the marks
the child mind brings to meditation

till the room spins it's the emptiness
after all as Lao Tzu would from his horse
say peach in hand ready for the bite
of his life teeth grazing over the grooves
of the stone embedded in the body of flesh