In the dancing shade of the morning pines
I go searching for her spirit.
Year upon years, this is my choice, by design.
Year upon years, full knowing her shine is something I will never find.
In the oddest of manner, her actions remind me of mother and her nature.
How an awkward summer breeze can bring the charm of relief.
With her hands flat against a wall,
cynically…always leery of the fall.
It is in her purposeful silence that she makes the greatest remark of all.
Arms wide open, her innocence so green.
Having sustained an ocean of gray…
Seemingly born to jump the waves.
These morning thoughts cannot be introduced to anyone but myself.
It is in her rare laugh that I, too, shine.
I am weathered with its glow.
Such as the unavoidable seasons.
In her earthy silent remarks…it is there I find reason.
I discovered you by letting go.
And, that is all I need to know.
To exfoliate myself with what is dear…
To not question what brought you here..
If I had made this bed alone
There would be no scent of baby powder and spice.
There would be no looking both ways.
I would not have learned to roll the dice…twice.
If I had made this house, cedar and stain, log cabin frame, without its dame…I would still be dwelling in discord’s refrain.
In the morning, between the static and the reprieve, when it is easy to not believe…I ponder such vacant thoughts.
After all you have made me a vagabond to your ways.
Through routine I am grounded in the games we play.
Had I made this bed alone
pillows, solitary and too crisp.
I would have never fancied your kiss.