I hear you before I see you,
the way your little bottom scoots from
step to step, a pillow by your feet.
I carry you back upstairs.
I start to sing
and your eyes
imprint on me,
as though the lyrics
are sleep calling.
now your head can find your pillow.
I keep singing,
and you move your back closer to
my arms that you want draped around you.
I hold you close,
resting my head on your ribs,
letting your even heart rate
interrupt my fluttering.
You know me that well.
my body calms enough
for me to notice what
disturbs me,
this rabbit hole no longer austere.
engagements broken
fresh scars
lengthier scars
a heart less skilled at walling itself off.
medical betrayals
sick statuses that haven’t converted
to something more well.
enormous oceans to explore.
depth as vast as width
width first notable.
i’m struck by the chemistry
between strands of hair
and visible tree roots,
remembering her comment
that when I speak its in the shape of a ribbon.
curved
unfurled
absent mysteriousness
not obviously clear
linking the top with the bottom.
your rib with my ear
your eyes with my voice
you falling asleep to my keen alertness,
hair blown in another image
fastening things to the earth,
leaving your arms free to cradle,
new life brought nearer
to the throat containing lullabies
and the heartbeat that is constantly playing.
the little girl a shadow on the branch,
something else in her arms,
needs shrinking and expanding
in relation to new factors,
most frequently as new beings.
lit by the moon,
layering water with dirt,
substances intermixed
grains of sand
twigs peeking out of branches
like fingers,
and nests
water masses
water droplets
leaves storing food
making food
out of light
and water
and dirt.
eyes closed,
brightened
maturely waning,
intently listening
to how holding your breath
became breathing under water,
became birthing a new world.
perched in the tree roots
gazing graciously
back at a lullaby
up at the moon
down in the waters
seedlings of green space
crests parting
sounds heard,
forming between your lips.
whatever helps you feel,
you whisper back.