Oh sweet memory,
Gilding the experience of being.
Soft I turn form that has no form
In hands that girdle whole worlds.
Illuminated by light and the act of loving,
Air itself.
Passing this way and that
Where do boundaries lie
Who defines what?
The mystery.
You shared dreams and desires
A stream of words
A river of being
An ocean of possibility.
So swim
Be free.
Allowing flow to flow
That is all I can offer,
For I have no sense of possession
Nor desire to constrain.
The river runs to the ocean
To be reborn.
Lying under the tree
Gazing upward into the crown,
Each leaf has its place,
Catching the light.
When summer turns to autumn
Then autumn spirals to winter
And winter unfolds itself into spring.
Again.
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