Dear love,
Where you nested
my heart grows lithe,
as with my own whim
I've flown away from solitude
and found breach of delight within.
I can't love you into stillness,
like rain you come refreshed
as I weep for what was ravaged
I keep the harvest's goal,
Oh, significant wonder,
girl's gone beautiful soul.
I can gently part the curtain now
on what I thought that I should dread,
and find in truth a grace amazed
by my own light, wavy threads.
I have no doubt my sigh and cry
weighed heavy on your placement
with time's perfect patience,
so I threw them in the brier
I thought I held for you
to soften a girl's bad dream come true.
To question is my degree,
so I ask miraculously
significant wonder touching grace,
and though flesh is an unworthy tool,
I see you smiling in my face.
I see the pages turn,
hear the sound of paper,
know the end has such integrity
that I want to skip a page or two
to see what happens later.
Keep well, this home of heart
has been growing from the start
from a chain anchoring one into the other,
where there is no end to the devotion
from you, my daughter
forever in the lasting of me, your mother.
Could I but see the distance
plague the stone so I could fly,
curiosity would lick the slurry
until the sap in me was dry.
So, my love I have a feeling
on the page that says, the end,
when I've eaten apples to the core
there will be a light in me, not dim,
that still will want for more.
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