At the bottom
look way up to the rim up there where the air is slim. So the steep escape comes lumbering in to reach the edge of wondering.
This is
the end
of
me.

A small piece of humanness
almost not here at all but she is big in the heart and her spirit is wall to wall.
Sparkler.  
Not to be deminished
at all.
A sparkling light. Ember like.
burning furiously and quiet save for a fizz and flicker.
Quicker than soft silver. A flicker.
Flickering soul detained to never grow old.
Old soul in a wind whipped frame
Framed in a miniscule  moment.
A moment is all you are.
Are.

It's the little things that seal the deal.
They make it real. Little things to small  except to feel.
Like the way you stand and sit when you don't realize that eyes are on you.
The way you fix your mouth to speak a word. The sounds you make that go unheard.
The little things like small kindnesses that remind us what the heart can feel.
How your hands move when you speak or the way look from through your eyes that surprises me every time and leaves me soft and weak.
The little things.
The way you sleep
Like sweet secrets that you keep and share exclusively.......
Those things.
Those little things that are there..Your hair...Your chin;
your goodness even when the world is unfair.
The little things my dear.

Somewhere  deep in the ***** of her
Contractions  will drive flagella  home.
To blend and twirl in pleasure and
Build a metronome. The quickening and spark.
mind and body  are destined to link and intuition can meld with spirit  and cells. A silent awakening a crawling from the brink as liquid solitude nurtures to find a a living home. As system after system  speaks the tongue  of the metronome
quick and crisp
thick and strong
for long and long
mild hesitation
pause meditation
labored progress
halting redress
Silence.