Who are you
looking out of my eyes,
flowing
out of my heart?
Who are you
waking me
in the moon-silent dark?
Who are you
walking me into fields and forests
to smell the riverbank
and hear the fern
give off its hush?
How do you rise
to the footfall
of desire
that circles
the center of my center?
How do you root
as tendrils
drawing liquid light
through the landscapes
of my longing?
How? I don’t need to know,
but never stop.
Never stop
gathering my golden strands
and weaving them into the Oneness.
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