The shattered right femur of a girl
and add to that a green wool beret,
funny pages from the sunday paper, scrambled eggs, and paper dolls ...
the taste of snow on your tongue,
rosary beads of tulsi kapoor, a velvet Elvis painting,
and your tucked away watercolor.
Then add rain,
the sound of rain and the smell of rain.
Add heaps & heaps of
Dr. Zhivago snow : sparkling-blue-sequined-in-the-moonlight-snow
Plus rainbow trout, apples & New Orleans.
Finally stir in the flume of diesel & cigar smoke on a London street
and the bite of whiskey & jazz
along with the opalescent thrumming of a hummingbird.
Slice it smoothly deep & narrow - during the shine of this blue-green corn moon
... threaded with indigo & owl tears.
Thunder rumbles & rolls
Rain comes ...
Once long ago, I rode with my mother
as we searched for autumn leaves down a tree-lined country road.
I wore a purple coat
and my mother was so very present & the leaves were the color of her heart :
soft deer-brown, crimson with the lightest orange
When do we know that we are the same ? That we will yearn & bleed ?
When is the sky more blue than ever before and how often is a lifetime traversed
in a kiss ?
Surrender lies there
where skin meets the sun
and the day's fresh mown grass melts into evening's cool cotton sheets.
Sureness shines in your dark eyes and
forgiveness is found in the pause between seasons
in the heaviness of our bones.
Love is all.
And I will wake & i will remember