I shall come to you!

When at a loss for inspiration,
I look at your names, your destinations,
Then I need a traffic cop at a roundabout,
To sort out the new poem-babies
Being born simultaneously!

My arms beg me to
Enrapture you,
But constraints of time and place,
The mundane curse, money,
Rivers that seem to be too wide to ford,
Leaves me but one solution,

I shall come to you.
In any way I can!

I shall perforce,
come to you
For I cannot wait
To fall upn thy neck
And whisper
Blessings upon us all!

Find me a windmill needs tilting,
Bring me jars of ink and oil,
Do what I can with my saber small,
My pen, the strongest weapon I posses,

But is my voice, that I will bring,
First and foremost.

My strongest tool,
For I cannot wait
To fall upon thy neck
And whisper
Blessings upon us all!

I want to rest.

I want to be Earth-
my skin, loose soil,
yellow button dandelions
pushing through
the dirt in my chest,
as puddles fill my outstretched hands
while my hair twists into the roots of trees;
and the wind picks up
to scatters pieces of me
side by side
the dandelion seeds.