IX

What shall I do with you,
but love you through each breath
and each breaking of the heart;
through your joy
and your mad longing
and your bitter imperfection.

After all, you are my own,
m y    h e a r t,
my softest self.

VIII

Let me be like Edna
naked in the garden
untamed, glorious,
conjuring death and joy
like mad spirits, marveling
at the texture of the sky
crashing down on me.


VII

I want to be wondrous
and wild
and beyond your control.

I want to direct the star showers -
and the light - across the sky
in cosmic dances of ethereality.

You would have no power here,
just as I have no power
in this world I’ve built
of you.


VI

I want to breathe, deeply and vigorously, with the wild sensation of my own aliveness, the staggering awareness of being whole. I want to learn to rest in a moment, to honor it, and to fold myself into presence. I want to know what it feels like to move through the moments with ease and grace. I want to be of space, open and glorious and made of stars. I want to touch the tender core of love with hands that know truth, compassion, devotion. And through it all the exhilarating act, to breathe.

V

When it’s finished
they may not say
I was a success at this life;
but they will marvel
and be astonished
by how dutifully
I followed my heart.


IV

I want to build a world out of
all the untamed words,
more elusive than this one,
well-stocked with hidden beauty,
and I want to live in it
with you
or alone;

preferably both.

III

Give me the stone cottage,
moss-covered, thatched of roof,
where a kettle whistles on an open fire;
give me the cliff’s wild edge,
the infinite ocean beyond;
let the dog run with abandon,
her muddy paws thumping out the beat
of my own heart;
give me the saltwater air to drink
and poems to eat,
and the call of the gulls
and the wild gusts of wind
and the sun-kissed morning fog
to remind me what it is
to breathe and to be.


II

understand, dear heart:

in your softness you are not weak.
in your softness you are not lost.
in your softness you are not broken.


rather, your truth is this:
that in your softness
you are a stardust revolution.

I

I want the sensation
of life, of experience,
to seep into my bones
with each moment.
I want every day
to be a routine
of the best possible
j o y s  of life.