There are a hundred matters
one cannot un-do.
Frost’s forked path in the midst,
and I took the road less traveled.
What has it brought me, in the end?
What redemption, if not recognizing
the fullness of existence to the marrow
permeating all life?
Spirits lie shriveled and broken,
arise again during phoenix time,
and the roots that form,
a foundational goal toward which I aspire,
perceive how hearts ache in their absence.