Yet To Be
There is a stillness that’s reassuring,
one that is unnerving.
It’s hard to tell the difference from
the way the branches move
as a prelude to each. As though the echo
of a butterfly wing is waiting to be heard.
I think of the I Ching – the randomness
of right meaning found in how
the stalks fall, the art of interpretation,
how right can become wrong.
I notice a stillness in the air.
Something this way comes.
I smile as though what’s
arriving is an answer
to a koan yet to be given.
Byron Hoot was born and raised in Morgantown, West Virginia. He now lives in The WILDS of Pennsylvania. Still in Appalachia where the hills and valleys, streams and lakes, the people formed, and still form him, and give what he writes about. His poems have appeared on Vox Populi, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Keystone Poetry, The Watershed Journal and other publications.
