three ways of many ways

i.
winter rain
is upon the ditch rushes
like broken
glass

illuminated city light eyes
the dullness of their beams
yellowing clear sweep of sky


mistaking stars
for the spot
where a window frame is empty

ii.
cassini
is a space probe
observing saturn
in all its science, a zen master
approaching nothingness
no signal

iii.
what is better
than this emptiness
this god-space? it's
my daughter's hand
when we walk together

not being
the child
being of the child