We need not wait for interpretations.
An ant is moving punctuation,
changing the sentence as it goes and goes.
A meaning cannot find itself,
but tree roots spider the earth with clues.
They have learned to clench down deep.
Lucid illusions will find their own fate,
like intricate crickets design the dark.
Watch and listen.
I follow each longing wind by wind,
the way gaps between stars
whisper the invisible.
It’s a matter of precedence.
The wind unwinds the light in things.
There is no leaf that cannot trace the air.
It may be sudden,
this easeful grace.
A silence that surrenders to devotion.
Sean Lause is a professor of English at Rhodes State College in Lima, Ohio, United States. His poems have appeared in the minnesota review, Alaska Quarterly Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Beloit Poetry Journal, European Judaism, Illuminations and Poetry International.