On my morning walk, I came across an abandoned jar of honey on a white rock-seriously! So, this poem came. Seems to be about identity and seasons of life—we’ll see!

Honey on stone at sunset:

I can travel into  what I see now

I don’t have to be in it to know it.

my inner heart’s eyes know, by engulfing what i see in love.

for the first half of life, i touched it all, drank it down, let it

wet my lips until parched. I broke the jar, until i knew.

now i can appreciate it as is… as light passing slowly

as sunset, through a jar of honey sitting alone on a hill

on a white stone i never saw before.

casually mentioning, or whispering, my other name to me.