4.5.07

Sometimes
my head and heart are filled to burst with
beautiful things

I carry them with me, collecting
the feel of the air, the glow of the sky between branches,
the way I can stand up on my pedals to brush beneath the flowering trees.

The energy of cooking in a kitchen
music playing such
that I might never wish for something else

The people my life intersects with
whom today, I love dearly
and dearly, I feel I can love

I think I could curl near a tree
and the beauty all bundled inside me
would sprout from my mouth and my stomach
or maybe
grow roots from my fingers and knit me together enmeshed with the bark
I'd be ivy

or moss.
I'd be soft.

Even as I collect every sense of the moment,
I know I can never return
The homeland I'm building inside of my head is of pieces
just shards of this journey


It hurts so much to hold them
but the pain is of a joy well-worth it

although they hurt my hands to collect,
I'll be glad later when,
edges worn smooth
they just shine.
And my memory will not be empty.

And maybe someday I will find
something that looks like the pieces that I've been collecting
and I will no longer long for a home
and no longer hurt
because all of my homes can finally be
in the place that I've found at that moment.