2026-09-04 · theme: threshold · alludes to Ezekiel 47:9
A doorway is not a wall that gave up; it is a wall that learned to listen. All week I have stood in one, half-lit, watching the river the prophet saw — how fish return to bitter places, how healing keeps a slow schedule. The bucket forgets. The well remembers. Cross slowly. What lives, lives where the water arrives. Evening comes. I stay in the frame a little longer.
Composed today.