I have been leaving pieces of myself
around for awhile now.
Down by the lake where the old oak is,
part of me sits quietly among the leaves.
When the sun set that evening last year,
and the ocean and the air
we were breathing turned gold,
the gulls joined us.
They, too, grew quiet.
We all stood there, swapping parts of our
selves for glistening light.
Why, once in an art gallery, a whole chunk of me fell off
as the Goddesses of Pink and Purple moved in.
Sometimes, when I feel the flowers singing,
I know God, so quiet, does not hunger,
But simply waits for our laughter.
I wonder why we are so stingy.
Let’s give it all away.
Good-byes are happening all the time now.
The heavy dock is wearing out; that is good.
Even a jittery kite can grow
daring like a bird.
Nothing to pack.
We have light enough
Because our hearts are already home.