in the birdsong hush of dusk
slipping out from the waking world, I find you there
my dear one
my being rises
and I am so close to you and I am reaching out my hands
filled with heart,
the whole of me a blooming swell
stretching out to touch you
with all of our years,
like a tree waiting
always
longing toward the sun.
but somehow, in that scattering light,
you are too far.
and when I cry out to you
my sound dies into the night
you do not hear.
then, the dark comes,
and the dream of your nearness
rolls over into the black
in the morning,
the distance seems colder
as much as I quiver I cannot shake it.
exposed, naked, arms spread for embrace
I am so much unopened love
only, only
for you
I am a home, sad and empty.
deep at its core,
the earth aches and burns
what makes you ring with such a hollow sound
when perplexed, I turn my knuckles round
to tap some stir from you?
elm.