It is not so hard to go within after all.
Open the gate of my garden home,
breathe on top of the morning chill, a song.
I feel you urge me towards the sanctuary.
It is more thorough than before,
when I was so busy searching for what is lost.
The windows frame what is so familiar
and yet, it's all become a platform of the spectacular.
The shadows on the curtain were not there before
and now they are pulsing on the fabric cascade.
The jasmin that was closed in bud
is now a flush of white stars flung into the kitchen.
I was looking to move on, feel different,
get on with mid-life into whatever's next
and now I've been surprised into your face.
I've come to the grass under the knee,
I've come to the flowers in the grass
and all that lives under the grass.
I've come to the smallness of life
where your largeness is hidden.
Your face is growing with the roots
quietly interlaced and drinking
all the earth has to offer.