Your sentences aren’t mine to finish, still
Morning dapples on your river where I rise
It’s stained glass in my sanctuary
Holy light and honey, she runs home from here
I empty coffee cans of faded flowers
Send them back to soil of a ground that only grows
The wildflowers will wrestle the woods to find me
No matter how many trees I climb to hide
Autumn breathes in the barnwood swing
Swims in your lungs back and forth like a lullaby
A slow sway in silence sailed from the sky
I sat my secrets in the weeds and asked them how to pray
Always answering in tangles of blushing blooms
Soft stars and seeds of someday soon
Find me forgetting and fragile
Touching toes with something slow and sacred
Pretty pieces clayed from pinecones and promises,
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.