You are with me (2.17.13)

I weave pretty things,
Twined things,
To make special things,
Precious things.
I stitch together blue things
With red things
To make purple things
And they cast out the dark things
On the rainy days.

On the frothy sea
Rainbows bubble at the mouth
Of the Columbia
We interlaced our finger tips
And talked to the birds
With our voices so soft,
So quiet and sweet.

Trees stretch their fingers
To the sky, ripping through
The clouds with their sharp pointed claws
The river coalesces with the salt of the sea,
I turn my head back over my shoulder
To see you,
Your head thrown back,
Mouth held slack,
jaw dropped,
And your eyes drinking in the colors mixed in the container of eternity.

Stillness washes us.
Silence nourishes us.

The whole heavens look as though they’ve opened up
Just for us,
On this February morning.
On this frigid February morning.

My heart dances with your heart,
And our hearts dance with
The big heart,
The whole heart,
Of the earth, the sun, and the sky,
The ocean too.

In an instant,
I am home.
Home is in the trees,
The breeze, and my breath.
In a quiet, sudden moment
All else falls away
I remember so clearly…
You are so near.



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