the stories that made me
Last night
I heard you get up
and followed you
as you quietly,
holding your paintbrush,
slid open the garden door
and walked out.
From behind the curtain
I spied on you
as you dipped
your brush
into the full moon
and painted a white ladder
from the grass
upwards to the stars,
then tucked your brush
into your pajama pocket
and began to climb.
The next morning
you kissed me awake
and in your smile
I could see
a million secrets.
my sons, if i could
i would spin
the clouds into yarn
and make you
a sweater each
(but the clouds
are out of reach).
or maybe if i made
blankets instead,
then I could wrap
your dreams
in clear, bright skies,
where rain is just a rumor
to scare the butterflies.
remember when
I asked you
where you learned
to dance like that
and you said
every night
I leave my body
on the shore
and walk
into the water
where the tide
teaches me
the rhythms
of the moon
Take these poems
and throw them
out of your window
if you wish.
Sprinkle them
in your garden,
or toss them
into the wind
if you wish,
there’s more of them.
You see, words float
in the air around you
like fireflies
and all I have to do
is sit still in your presence
until a few of them gather
in my open palms.
That’s how I catch the poetry
and give it back to you.
Take what pleases you
and throw the rest away
As far as I know
you are infinite.
I learned
my name
on the first day
of creation,
before it all,
when every corner
of the universe
was quiet,
and the first
blades of grass
lifted their heads
from the soil
in whispered prayer
to the young sun.
From that holy silence
you emerged,
stood at the edge
of the cliff
and sang softly,
your voice meandered
over the calm
waters of the ocean
and found my ears.
I woke up
knowing that you
were calling me home,
and that your voice
was my name.
heart
please
don’t tremble
here she comes
walking up to us
pulling the ocean
behind her
across the sand
like a giant
bluegreen quilt
her hair like ink
spilled
on the breeze
voice
please
it’s no time
to hide
find my lips
say
something
she’s looking at us
at first we searched
for caves
to hide
from nature’s
creatures and her temper
we played outside
in the daytime
and when the sun
turned its back on us
we hid inside
by the fire
to dream
we dreamed of walls
and woke up one morning
knowing that we
could make caves
whenever we want
instead of relying
on the sympathy of mountains
or the kindness of forests
the walls
were meant to swaddle us
so we can sleep
through nature’s unknown
and dream new things
but as our walls
grew bigger
we got arrogant
and one day
instead of building walls
around ourselves
we started building walls
around nature too
the cave grew bigger
and nature smaller
then this big cave
with everyone in it
became too loud
we could no longer sleep
so we built more walls
this time
around each other
we made smaller caves
one person long
one person wide
and we hung photos
of ourselves
on the walls
in case someone visits
but no one visits
now we lie awake
at night
in our cave for one
nothing more
than cavemen
whose only fire
is our yearning
to sleep
outside