bird suspended, waves breaking one
in to another,
hills woven of shoulders, hips, toes,
clouds sliding across blue..
It is not the
must possess, perfect, expensive, mechanical conquest
connection, relationship, tangle of bouncing language, laughter song around the twilighted corner, and
being followed softly home.
How did we confuse it with a thing to buy,
an object to have,
a keeping to be kept by?
She tells her own story,
never upon command, and
if meaning vanishes the crease between our brow,
planting our feet more firmly on this earth,
we are in her Presence, an arrival of moments
passing by at any hour.