I shiver in the sun as I wait
for a closed door to open.
In my solitude I welcome
the real power of silence.
During the drought, I searched
for eyes of kindness waiting
for the rain. After the fires,
I waited for seedlings of trees
to sprout and superbloom.
Authentic hands tremble and
wait just beyond the horizon.
They know how to decipher
the mystery of how to open
a closed door and will teach us
to make friends with the dead
as soon as the door is opened.