The Still Point

“Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is.”
T. S. Eliot

At the end of her life
Ma signed her name
with a single dot.
No lines or curves
to mimic the alphabet
of the body. Her hand
here, then gone
left a nameless eye
in the chaotic whorl of words
and I could not help
but feel I was born
for nothing.
 
Father, come back
and meet me where the desert floor
breaks into our room.
I will tell you how my road ends
without waiting for anyone anymore.
I will tell you how Ma said
Don’t worry. What is to happen
has already happened
in the invisible world.
 
There, I hear the song
of wind and wolf
played on the organ pipe cactus
along the spines
of the white mountains
and wakes the ancient
creosotes in a dance.