by the grace of a mystery beyond my grasp,
these hands found their way in you
to massage your heart ever so briefly –
yet you already know
it has never stopped,
merely respiring under the dark night of grief,
and it will love more than it has ever known
beginning with this light of spring.
the blossoms are but the first encore,
listen as they sing your song…


…through you,
through you I remember autumn:
a forgiving breeze
unveiling eros in the clearing of weary trees,
the humility of needs settles in the warmth of your skin
and patience finds its way back to the earth,
leaving grace dancing to the notes you’ve etched in these inward skies.


do you feel this?
revealing itself like a symphony?
the pulse felt in the polyrhythm of two hearts –
separating in time and space to experience
the miracle of witnessing and being seen,
converging to feel surrender and intimacy,
circling, spiraling
within the strength of silence,
by the power of trembling words,
and elevated by what is unspoken.

when one and two become one,
might this be more than a reprise?