it’s been some days
since I stepped into myself this way-
failing to trust steps
coming up here again
pure and simple
there’s no mind cure
only salves and spritzes
steps in the woods
sun-dappled baths of relief
music and love
love and music
enough to come back for now.
I’m writing because I met you
in the music, in the crowd, in the woods
and it woke me up
I’m writing because when we saw each other again
when you were on your way back to your world
I meant it, when
I said I would
I’m writing because the weekend was a balm
and I want to hold a thread
through the hit of my inbox
I want to feel
the cold dark and hot sun
the tree mamas
deep heart-shaking rumbles
knocking loose the old paint
I’m writing because I want to thank you
to my weekend renovations
I’m writing because
sometimes I write in poems
I’m writing because I want to connect
because I remember how it tastes again
I stepped out of my self
and lit up for a moment
a long moment after a long time.
My psychic girlfriend says to go slow and take bites-
to let the meal happen in its proper sequence-
that now we are looking at the menu
in the same restaurant.
there was a love note
clipped in my barrette
left on the hood of my car
by a stranger
your choices will change the world.
there are birds singing outside
my borrowed east bay window
are they overachievers
or lost Europeans-
I hope the glow of this screen
isn’t confusing more creatures.
and I wonder if confusion is harm.
I wonder if we harmed those birds in the woods
where it was too loud to hear if they sung
but I heard them later
through ringing ears and slower notes
and I wondered if they slept
or went on an unexpected journey too.
what I know
is they didn’t worry about us coming
and there is no cursing or celebrating now.