unfolding: a poem

 

I walk alone, so alone.

You are guiding me, for I
Do not see.
You build my bridges, so that I may
Cross the streams.
You bring your body
Close to mine, and
I am warm.
The sea calls to me, and
I wander.
But your direction does not change, and
Soon I will follow, for
You are my breath.

Summer nights are hot, and
We run in the fields.
I follow you close, so close.
I am faster, but dare not pass.
Content to be a step behind, and
Afraid not to be, I smile.
Out of breath, I collapse
In your arms, and you
Rock me to sleep.
I do not dream. I do not stir.

When the sun first kisses the horizon,
I open my eyes.
You do not.
The cold night stole your soul, and
You sleep on.
But in the midst of death, there is life, and as
You surrender yours to me,
I am born.
Now, wearing your wings, I shall soar above the
Trees, above the
Mountains, above the
Clouds.
And when I find you walking alone,
So alone,
I will build your bridges.

*** I wrote this poem kind of randomly, somewhere around nineteen years old, I'd guess. It was eventually read at my mom's funeral.