I want to tuck myself into all the memories
that shift me like sand
in the waves under my feet
from the mundane to awe,
from the compact to the infinite:
the smell of papaya or sugar cane wafting
on a warm wind; the clouds that look
like mountains or mounds of cotton
candy billowing higher, and their gusts
reaching down to brush back
my wild mane; the last push
before the perfect release
of a newborn baby--the smell
of their head, their wails of desire
diving into the depths of this
swallowing eternity.
As I fold myself into the dough
of my life, I watch children
rise past my stature, and love
grows bigger than a marriage,
or a dream lost. Love,
the sea I am only now beginning
to fathom, swells and ebbs,
and its tide carries me along
deeper into its center-less space,
devouring me without
my noticing.
Knead me
into your being, sweet love,
envelop me into your message
written in wrinkles on my skin,
tuck me into the wind-smelled sheets
where I can raise my tattered sails and drift
higher on silver dreams,
full of fresh bread, salty seas,
and the messiness of common adventure.
~Suzette Winona Summers
RSS Feed
