Worlds merge.
I go where I am invited, & feel what is present.
I greet old friends and new ones.
When they tell me who they are, I believe them.
Stirrings arise — memories, insights,
connections that surprise us,
lead us into storytelling.
Voices rise and lilt.
What distant dream draws nearer?
Whose long-forgotten treasure prepares to return?
I have been practicing resurrection,
the turning of time toward youth,
the fall arrested, undone, only a dream.
The open frame beckons;
a wish rises into the open air.
The secret gestures of these hands
trace the chambers of the new heart,
the one that holds without breaking,
that works without effort.
November 2017