Isn't it marvelous
This light ripe like a juicy orange
Filling the clouds with luminous presence
That feels like something
Beyond my comprehension
Simply sit at the root of the tree staring
At its rugged skin and bright flesh
Peering through the cracks
I sense its aliveness as blood
Flowing through my veins
Warm and real and finite
I press my cheek against it
Feeling its breath
As I inhale you exhale
Simple coexistence
Interdependence
That makes me cry

You are the backbone when I collapse
The blanket on a snowy day
My morning shower companion
Who feels like the extension of my skin
The smell of comfort on the pillow next to mine
When I wake up alone
My overstuffed feeding target
And the epicenter of my earthquakes
That I can neither resist nor withstand
The promise, faith, meaning and forgiveness
All in one person whom I could never lose

New day
I go with the flow
Of what feels Right
I cling to that truth
Which is bigger than my
Self

Gentle breeze engulfing every bit of
Sadness that was left it blew away
With the salt air and flocks of seagulls
Under the warmth of my children's palms
Loving heat the best of all things I ever created
Taking the moments one at a time and
Forever wishing to be more present
Yet feeling a tinkling of distant thought
The grey area of fatal uncertainly
Ever pulling in some ironeously
Self-destructive direction no amount of
Education could possibly eradicate
A glimps of the deadly silhouette the one
My insanity wished to befriend
She is here inexplicably near or is she not?
Was she ever not? that is a better way to place the question
Strange and creepling I know she is wishing
As maybe I am in some deep down irrational cave where
Fear decides to embody the joy of motherhood
Maternal towards that which never wished me well
By definition untrustworthy never proving me wrong
Yet in this vast sensory symphony by the sea
The attraction of my singularity to the core of all things
Is only beyond my comprehension
Yet forever existing in accord with some universal order
And I wish I saw her eyes

Sometimes it takes knocking down the tower
And clearing the rubble
Before the future could be built on its place
And the hardship it takes to see the misgivings
Taken as a second name - that is the definition
Of love not the sweet compliment to fill up
The empty space
Not the million empty likes to **** the day