Swimming the Deep

dawn breezes
natal stillness kissing
this bird bath hush

Toasted cumin seeds rest in the mortar and pestle. My apple skin core against your wooden teeth. We enter and leave the cathedral of trees without yet finding a way to remain. Who is the vine; who is the branch?

Sun ascending the eastern trunk and later, sinking into western branches. Our reins will never entwine the sun. And yet, and yet; every day sunlight gallops into our rotation again.

We were not made to be lonely, despite our best efforts. Yet seasons come and go. Late summer is upon us. Night coolness wings over luxuriant gardens. The silken sleeves of spiders catch midnight tears and hold them for all to cherish at dawn.

There is a saying: A heart at peace is easy to please.

What do you know about an effusive lover? I can swim the deep that keeps you.

The old dirt road widens at the bend and yet the trees along both edges are able to lean in to form a cool, green tunnel. This is part of the way to the lake. I was thinking of driving with you most of the way there and then parking the car a mile out or so and walking the rest of the way.

Where you go, I go – do you not yet see?

And one last thing, beloved. I was wondering, would you, could you, carve for me a walking stick? The journey is long and I could use a little help.