some lovers are caterpillars

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some lovers are caterpillars
new and vulnerable
inching along to who knows where,
they are extended flowering branches
to slowly explore for possible safe havens
to warmly spin their tentative cocoons.
They may never do it,
or grow better on another’s tree
but they are sweet and fascinating
soft to hold in the moonlight,
lightly protected
to see what they do.

Some wrap too tightly to your branch
suffocating themselves
and stripping your bark raw
in their need.
Neither can grow this way.
Cut them loose, watch them drift
quietly to the ground
and start again

Knowing
that there are butterflies
who will delicately awaken
your belly
kiss your heart into light,
thrive off the precious
hidden nectar of trust.
With them you will ride
the warm breezes of change
with gentle grace,
evolve
and evolve again
dancing
laughing
migrating so far
your tiny strength together
will stun you.

They may fly away
or you will,
wings may disintegrate in salty tears.
Or you’ll never stop flying with them.
Either way
you’ll begin to see
your own colors are more vivid
your nectars more delicious
welling in your blossoms,
bottomless.

birds

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“I love the way the birds usher in the morning,”
you said,
as we listened to them
through windows framing tree branches
dark silhouettes brightening in the rising sun
like paintings coming alive,
your warm face against mine
smiling, the painter
of this life I didn’t know I could have.
“It’s like they’re so excited to start the day.”

turn and face the strange

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It started out like a wound,

red gashes zig-zagging across her nose and brow
I connected the dots
while the world felt the initial shock

She scrutinized it in the mirror
filled it in with more red, then black
as we shared the news and cried
though he was long gone

And then, as these things go
the sharing turned to remembering
resolving,
though words were still tentative
paintbrushes poised
he laughed somewhere, delighted
as she adjusted her costume, bolt complete

Thus transformed
we gathered in dark places
and sang long into the cold night
to the very different stars

first snow

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You will learn in time
to stay warm at any cost
choosing the spiced tea over the floral
Doubling, tripling your socks
You’ll let the pounds settle on your hips like protective arms
and resent them later as the year turns teenaged
You’ll watch for foxes
force bulbs from their slumbers on your windowsill
desperate for color as you look out at the bleak lawn
sighing at what once thrilled you.

But what you can’t know yet
is how deeply that sigh takes root
Your white breath will hover a moment before you in the sparkling air
but scurry back quickly, craving the warmth as you do.
It will huddle down into the bed of your bones
wrap itself in your slow muscles
and wait
watching your heart dance like firelight.

Let it.

You know already that ends bring beginnings
but you will forget.
You will think the spring is a fairy tale,
won’t trust the bright green shoots that peer out in March
only to be snowed upon again.
You will weep for them.
That’s okay.

When the ice melts and your sigh
tumbles damply out again for peonies and violets
You may not see it escape this time
But you’ll know in your empty bed
the bittersweet loss that comes with every birth
every beginning.
You are good at this job now.

someday

lynneLeave a comment

Someday I think
I am going to finally take this for granted
accept that the other shoe
is not actually going to suddenly drop
and stamp out all of this precious,
hard won sweetness
that is my life right now.

It will no longer feel fragile
and amazing to me
like the first tiny bright buds in spring,
clinging impossibly
in the last of winter’s winds.

It will no longer surprise me.
It will just be my sweet,
vibrant,
delicious life,
perfectly normal to me someday.

But not today.