Becoming One

leaves shift, ready to fall

becoming aware of my own shifting

ready to shed the year’s languishing

becoming October’s possibility

the winter seed of this year’s prayer

becoming the flaying of my own beliefs

becoming malleable

the way one begins

making room

and finding there is

roots spread beneath this fragile roof

the feeling of your open palms

becoming clasped, becoming kept

and learning how to keep you

where roots cannot reach

becoming words whispered under the pillow

I am entirely yours—

—where are you?

I cannot sleep alone

becoming the great divide

between evening drift

and morning grace

—smell of sweet hibiscus!

becoming pink

washed through paper windows

and I reach for you across the table

ready to rest on your shoulders

ready to sync into you

like two birch trees

leaning against one another

becoming one

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