Han-shan speaks in broom strokes
when I sweep
he recites to me
fills me with intention
reminds me
all is chaos
and that sweeping
is not about collecting dust
merely to transport the dirt
that lies beneath our feet
from one place to another
the sweeper is a poet
dust
the cast off essence
of life lost to reason
in my dustpan…
Han-shan
Rumi
Whitman
in my dustpan…
eternity
