head hand - January 11, 2014s

author’s note:

It was blessed good fortune when I discovered the books of Robert A. Johnson.
 

HER

I write to honor a woman
who hides in full view—

whenever I lose her
she watches and waits

as my stitches break open—

she will sew me back up
but I must first guide the thread
through the eye of the needle:

I must nurture her
before she can nurture me.

If you claim
you do not want her
I know your poverty—

I once tried
to leave her behind
because I thought
I needed to be tough
to make this trek
across the desert…

but finally I felt so weak
I had to stop
and as I gave myself up
I realized her presence
then realized her strength—

when I looked skyward
I found her gliding
in a fleet of sunlit clouds

then discovered her again
in the cloud shadows moving
across the brown sand.

At night,
she beams down upon me
from the eye of the moon

as I nestle into a boulder
shaped like her hand.

Some meet her by blessed accident:
a burglar opens a window to rob a jewel
and ends up leaving with the bride.

She comes to me
when I finally acquiesce
and allow myself
to experience perfection…

© 2014, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: the book

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