is gone. Leaves turn from green
to gold, the reddest scarlet, and mauve.
They dance their final fiery
love song before the fall.
My heart, this year preoccupied
by illness and death, almost didn’t notice
all the beauty.
Yet on a pensive walk
it received a tugging jolt.
My eyes, who could not resist,
as Imminent curiosity is
their game
beckon the compassionate
one to attention.
Your eyes keep me glued
The glue that holds the heart together
In the heart I recognize the source of breath
The breath is a bridge
The bridge between body and mind
The body walked down the rainbow till it found the threshold
The threshold between light and dark that marks life’s journey
The journey my feet walk on
My feet tell the story
The story is old
The old part is new
The new part is forgotten
I forget a little each day
The day isn’t long enough for my dreams
Each dream is a little world
The world is a small place
My place is where I am
I am a girl in a woman’s body
The woman in me is a mother
The mother in me is ancient
Ancient is my heart
My heart is in your eyes
Your eyes keep me glued
I am your heart
and for years I have been wanting to speak to you
sometimes you don’t hear very well
other times you are so zoomed in
that my words are just booming sounds
if you take three steps back
and breathe in and out
you may hear my voice
which resounds in the rhythm of all
it is the threshold and miracle of creation
the ebb and flow of water and shore
wherein lies love and devotion
it is the hidden source of warmth
which sediments into friendship and memory…
the connection between flour and water
which allows us to bake and build
it is the smile of a child and the feeling that ensues
from which you know
that I am here and so are you
oona's looking glass 