Aleph Portal Moon

A letter in the mail on a weekday

A friend writes what a child said to her:

A portal is a line ending in a field.

And I think of my love of earth holes

And how anything, anyone, might shelter there

And that for me a portal is a moon

About which so much may be imagined

About whose field there is a dark energy

About whom we here on Earth make much ado

Ado for a wisdom aspect of reflective matter

Ado undiminished by scientific materialism

Ado that revitalizes fools & lovers & seas

As the breath is a swinging door

As the night is a box seat in an insect opera

As we touch the prayer wheel with hope

Again the mouse, the worm, the rabbit, the fox

Again the burrowing owl, the rare earth miner

Again along our ephemeral line within the radiant field.