i empty myself
of myself
to make space
for you
welcome, divinity
you are invited
to fill me up
i empty myself
of myself
to make space
for you
welcome, divinity
you are invited
to fill me up
precious rock,
starlit speck
i saw me from 3.7 billion miles away
we were embracing
i was listening
the finch that befriended us in February
songs seeping from your trumpet
cold water in the well
this quiche i am composing
i saw them all from 3.7 billion miles away
and they were already gone
my sweet snippets, evaporated
but those snippets belonged
love gave them to me
and this vapor of a life -
i drank it
morse code fireflies at moonlit midnight
glitter in the oak tree canopies of our backyard
climbing cucumber plants garnish the southern side of the cabin
their escalating yellow blossoms like sparks rise from fire
sunday morning's placid fog above the French Broad
reflects the viridian landscape of the heart
you humbly smile, as you discern
the love notes i have sent you through Nature