Sometimes I'd look up to you for so long my neck would hurt.
You taught me how to listen while I was
Sloshing around in your footprints,
Sliding over your roots.
I learned from everything holding everything else up.
Tell me stories about your lovers
(some are long dead and gone)
then remind me that nothing's ever really dead or gone.
Delight as I tilt my head at your trees that walk
only so they could pause and grow in more sunshine.
Let me wonder if this stunning thing will hurt me badly or kill me.
Let me declare myself home.
The first day we met
I took a big leap over a log that was mossy and green
was as high as my hip
a hand helped me over
as well as a walking stick.
"I'm a woman now," I said.
"Now, just now you're a woman?"
Yes. Just now.
For I deny nothing and celebrate
the power I have to give this moment Life.
There is no possession here.
Only bodies trusting the formula
and enjoying the rain.
Acoustics of Trust
I was dreaming that all the definitions of all the leaves began to bleed together. Separations in patterns dissolved, like mercury coming together in one big puddle. I turned around in my sleep, absorbed in every single sound of the jungle. Just then, mid-rotation, I could hear your breathing above all the wild things. It felt like you were inches away.
I wanted this so badly that it woke me up. I didn't want to fight with myself anymore.
Every one of my needs were suddenly at odds: hide or shine, needing the space or being pulled in close, the work of transformation or a break from it all. Like the leaves in my dreams, my feelings also began to bleed together. I sat up and this is what I wrote:
If you can hear me, pull me close, remind me I am safe in this world
If you can hear me...
I know you can hear me.
Everything alive can hear me.
I will never lose the angle at which to draw You near, to remind me we are safe in this world. This is me, writing in the dark, pencil on weatherproof paper, by a little red light with all of these people as my witness, finally feeling and fully trusting the Great Unspoken in this jungle of a world.