stop gap

pathway to the barn,
hand reaches for a bite,

put some thing in you,
some thing in your hand,
your mouth,
your body
to fill the gap

pathway to the barn...
except it doesn't take you Home

there is no fulfillment
at the end of this hand

there is no fulfillment 
at the end of this hand

it is the stop-gap
measure
that but maintains
the gap

if you keep stuffing
something in your wound
it will never close up

everything you stuff in it
is but a weapon
to hold it open

horses
cows
a pathway to the barn,
so ancient
so childish
so familiar,
we haul our family members along,
to this dark
temporary garage

a parking space
for nought

where now
that even the barn falls short?

only this,
stop in your tracks,

be still,

perfectly still

so still
even a downy feather
drifting on the breeze
three hundred miles away
can be felt

so still
your blinking eye
is thunder

so still
every sparkle
of light
lands softly
in every point
of no space

awake!
awake!
awake!

no pathway
no barn

just Heaven
exactly
here