Eight Feng Shui Postcards


 A.V. Christie

 

All day with the remote

I move between birdsong

and surf, surf and birdsong

*

The fishtank softly bubbles,

bringing its fortune. The wind goes

all angles against the house.

*

The trees are hung with rain.

*

We've too many windows to doors, that ratio,

too many voices and mouths open—

a constant arguing, drafts.

*

I have forewarnings.

I have lemon rind.

I have the colors leaves turn.

*

In the shine of my eye

I am the River Dragon's bride,

a slow walk into water

*

How to place ourselves

in the shadows certain mountains cast,

their dialects of blessing

.

How to bring river light somehow

through traffic and into our palms.

*

Dear Master, I believe

we are looking for happiness.

Please to make the moments lead there.

 

Help our quiet hearts last

out their dynasties of suffering.