What You See

I saw something

that sent me running to you.

A refuge to my youth,

I shimmied up your trunk.

Little calloused hands traced

your library of bark -

layers on layers of stories,

all you’ve seen...

Did you see what I saw? I wonder.

Tell me, I whisper,

what do you see?

I wonder, I wonder...

What else has your gaze held?

What first kisses?

What tears?

What fears made real?

What birds have first flown from your arms?

What tales do your bones hold close?

I wonder...

Whenever I pray,

I pray to you.

Giver of life, I breathe you in

and breathe you out in

an offering of kinship -

my half of the circle,

a gaze going two ways.

A gateway to other realms,

kingdoms in your branches

made of starlight,

you send forth magic.

You see, know all, and don’t tell - like

god...

Steadfast, silent - except

for a whisper in a breeze.

Tell me, tree,

what do you see?

Everyday I watched you

watch me

from outside my window,

doing the unthinkable.

Steady, you stay

like your gaze -

not searching or sidetracked by

something shiny or new,

but me, who is right in front of you.

Again and again

the unthinkable...

I prayed,

you stayed...

God.

Let me tell you, tree -

thank you for not telling what you see.

I whisper,

it’s taken me a while to see that

you

see

me.

Shadows

Running through a graveyard,

a gray morning.

Skin tight thighs I run...

They know what it is to run,

they learned from example.

But here they run not away,

not toward,

they just run.

It’s complicated -

Run

Shadows draw me in with great strength,

impressive to my ego

eager to please itself and reflect back

great Womanly Strength

like my name,

to wear it well.

A Gray morning.

It’s complicated -

Touch

Words flowing over me like

anger in an out pour

sadness like a sickness

freedom like pain

laughing, it was worth it

happier than before,

but miss those shadows.

Run

Trust whispered the wind...

The answer to my fear is what I fear the most.

The shadows are my own Gray,

not the murky mind of another...

drawn into the maze of their mind

lost without myself.

Give up the metaphors,

touch the horse.

Touch

A reach out

a touch afraid of eyes that know,

harnessing fear of the unknown,

of the beauty bigger than my heart can bear.

Breathing in hands up

release it to the earth that holds you,

strength in bones unknown to me.

Run

To trust

To look you in the eyes

The shadow spaces that draw me in,

proud...

where we dabbled in the dark

to dig deeper and

simmer under the surface

where the knowing knows

where the seeing eye sits behind the eyes,

watching from the shadows.

Touch

Meditations of my pulse

like the day I learned to run again

like the way you looked I couldn't read you

but reached out when I was ready,

you were steady,

we were calm.

A gray morning,

it dawns on me:

Run

Soul quiet now

beneath the surface,

in the shadows, Knowing.

I listen. Muscles under skin,

Waiting to run,

Waiting to touch...

Eyes to know, learning the magic of mystery

and the pain of freedom,

the logic of feeling,

trickery of touch,

trickery of trust:

Touch

Passing days like a cloud

harness whispers of clarity that embrace like the wind,

Coming and going at will in

gusts and stillness and

like a fresh breeze

swift steps

It caught me held me soothed my tired skin...

Trust whispered the wind...

Run

I begins before the touch,

A knowing shared, searched for in

surfaces run deep.

Breathing starts shallow,

push into it.

Breaths run deep,

let it go. Without a plan,

on the edge of unknown,

to know the moment,

to know myself...

Touch

You see me myself back

to be known behind the eyes

around my bones.

In the shadows to connect,

touch, trust.

A time to run

without knowing

where going...

a Gray morning,

it dawns on me,

just

Run

The Glimmer and the Glint

There’s a glint bouncing between our eyes

like the ice on your lashes

like the clinking of our glasses

like the coin in the jukebox

and the music in our ears...

There’s a glimmer dancing between our gaze,

like the spark in the flash of a second,

like the intercession of giggles,

like the miracle of walking on water,

and the warmth of hands in winter...

Our pasts passed in the

present of our presence -

a pause in the play -

recording the now,

repeating the here,

renewed in the cycle of a moment,

With every breath,

we share time,

and the space between.