i have traveled the whole new world

in the time since i woke

it isn’t yet nine

i am not

in this moment

either birdsong or rain

i am vapor

i am recognition

in this moment

i am birdsong and rain

you will find me here

where the light is soft

where the breath is drawn

where everything unsaid

kicks up the scent of bitter orange and honey

(that which you once said I tasted of)

this here now

is deepsoftold enough

so that we all know

all know in our bones

the origin

but never the end

hey

what’s your song

your way inside a woman

deliberately

she stepped barefoot

in the morning grass

took three deep breaths

noting her center

her world

and it is in her

that it would be found

the life cadence love flow

that rains, pools and rises

the infinite cyclical force

and origin of everything we know

today and everyday she is

featuring spirit by virtue

of her tether-less will

and her stark fineness

forged in the burned drift

of it all

today and everyday she is

learning, unlearning and relearning

how to love

recognizing it as her spirited home

today and everyday she is

drifting toward what is

and burning down what is not

her essential self

today and everyday she is

will-full

spirit-driven

and burning by virtue of the stark universe

as well, the intimacy of of another’s skin and self

against hers

today and everyday she is

more starkly alone

than she is together

today and everyday she is

only seeking the material, the feel, the will and spirit to fill the void, the vastness within her

leaves her untethered

fine

small

light

in all darkness

dying opera

junk muscles

but i will carry on

by unburdening myself of a past,

i will conger a future

of resplendence

by virtue of my soft, circuitous will

i will bare my feet in your garden

i will edge my teeth along the skin of your life

and make you feel every

bee

stung

breath

held

moment

of me infused by you

infused

released

and lifted

our admixture:

a song, a stretch, a story

that will be heard

and felt

and known

if

on the oversight of the archivists

unwritten