Years ago when I studied this boon, a chapter captivated me and hence:
“The Reality of the Unseen”
—A chapter title in James’s Varieties of Religious Experience
Six inches last night. Junipers, shagged with snow, bow
as next door, I shovel an elderly couple’s driveway.
Against the whiteness, black asphalt is a desecration.
In the distance, a wind chime pierces the mute cold.
Its character is its destiny, too.
A blue shadow appears unseen behind a house
until the sun peers through clouds.
Some cardinal hops towards a Juniper.
her tracks are twin stick men, raising arms
in exaltation as they multiply behind her.
The Unseen abounds over and under drifts,
peeks through a porch screen slash.
Unseen but visible