Maybe you called my name
( in hundreds of languages I couldn't speak, )
Or maybe
You said nothing at all
.
Maybe your love was so incomprehensibly encompassing I could not tell the difference between it and the very air I breathe -

Or maybe

It was comprehensively small

It rained today,
The first rain in forever.
It smelled nice;
A great wet sigh of relief

I didn't miss it until today-
When the raw thunder rolled over my back
When the crisp grass softened
And mists poured thickly through the rippling trees
I love and I loathe
The endless rolling days of grey
That pulls over the sky like white sheets
Tucking us in to the earth; soft and small and damp and sweet

But maybe tonight, the pattering tap
Will pull me so softly
To sleep

What is life if not an excuse to love a little longer

What does it mean to remember?
And what does remembering mean
The days as they pass are fleeting
And some things grow gentler unseen

Snow melts
To soften and nourish the earth
And leave tender spaces
For the young things to bloom

And the roses that lay
Untouched on this splintered land
Still bloom, still bloom
As they bloomed before
In the day

In the darkness of becoming
I saw, I was a seed
In that dark and sacred place
Full of life and full of need.

Gasping, grasping every breath
A gift I take, I bleed
Into sweet light I dare to grow
A choice, no choice - I'm freed.

We were what we were
And we are what we are.

There is many necessary things about the past