murky waters

an old photograph shows
my father
I was just a child
looking up in wonder
The pond shimmered
cool and
refreshing relief from the heavy summer
heat
We used to leap from
the muddy bank
into the murky water below
offered us secrets only children could sense
we were still so young
looking up the way only children can
do
while the adults pretended
in the way only adults
do

I pressed a leaf
between book pages
in a chapter I
haven’t read yet.
a dark purple leaf
with crimson veins
from a season that has passed
from a season kept
in a timeless moment,
a child laughing at
the rain.
a child who isn’t jaded yet
always curious
and free
always safe
in the unknown
at home with all the questions
questions wrapped up in life
life held as a question

buds turned inward;
last years blossoms
turned inward upon themselves
as memories.
only a
lilac tree could hold these lessons
with
such bold defiance.
blossoms
so near birth
& last
year’s buds just memories

in
dreams body
tells me things

i study you
my
body
so inadequate

so very
loved yet
so inadequate for this

in dreams
body tells me things

body tells
me in dreams
of things

body always primal

body
to hide pain or joy
or even joyful pain
or pleasure 

body
tell me things
things told to me
by body

peeling the layers
of an onion
the dried skin
flaking away
down to the off-white flesh
of the fruit
pulling the
separate layers
that tell stories
unfolding them one by one
and holding
the flesh to your ear
and saying yes

waking you, softly

 you,
 in this light
        
the smell of dreams
and sleep.

and i
breathe you

you unfolding from your sleep.

you to life
         
i
can hold onto this