imagine
that your heart
left a beatprint
in the air
as you walk by
and I never
lose you
at the mall
ever again.
Heartbeat — a meditation
Origami — a meditation
The day you finally decided
to get rid of all the letters
from your past lovers,
you sat on the wooden floor
of your bedroom
outnumbered
by your scattered memories.
You folded each sheet
into an origami swan
and hung them all
from the windowsill.
By sunset,
your window looked
like a shimmering lake
where a flock of birds
has landed to rest
for the night.
Broken city — a meditation
Last night I dreamt
that you and I stood
over broken glass
looking out
at our ravished city.
And when
it started to rain
you held your umbrella
over our heads
as the raindrops
tapped on the fabric
a secret code.
“Can you hear that?”
you asked me.
“The rain is saying
It’s not over yet.”
Lanterns — a meditation
Every night
I hang my prayers
by the side of your beds
like little lanterns
that you can carry
to the farthest
edges of your dreams.
Onward fearlessly
my brave knights.
Come back victorious,
riding the horses of dawn,
with the morning sun
rising behind you.
I’ll be waiting
with pancakes.
Boomerangs — a meditation
At the bottom of the hill
in the shade
of the bare oak tree
we stood
shouting our names
into the distance
and catching the echoes
as they returned,
like boomerangs,
into our soft, bare hands
while that mighty tree,
ancient and undisturbed,
wrapped the autumn breeze
around its naked branches
like a scarf.
The sunbather — a meditation
All morning I watched
a thin arm
of sunlight
pick its path
between branches
until it finally
rested its warm fingers
on your leg.
Then I gazed
into the perspiration
glistening on your thighs
until I saw visions
of your future:
You have beautiful children.
And while you sunbathed,
I connected
all your moles
with invisible lines
then colored in
all the animals
it revealed on your skin.
And now that I’ve named
every freckle
on your face
I can get up
to fold the laundry.
Marbles — a meditation
Remember how we
raced to the garden
to escape
the boredom
of the living room?
And when we
were done playing
they would make us
wipe our feet
on the mat
so that we don’t bring
any crazy ideas
back inside,
but you always
had some marbles
in your pocket
you crazy, crazy girl.