Friday, March 25, 2005

I found it nestled in a giant tree that overlooks the Sound and the strangely warm sun that makes my plastic hair smell like Ghana. I found it on a hill top while the full moon waved in the water of Lake Union and the city formed a bridge of light between the blackness of the water and sky. I found it in a conversation with good friends, home cooked curry and a guitar/bass with 9 strings. I found it in random visits and planned ones too, the pigeons of Pioneer Square and incredible generosity from my friends and family.

High Spirits

I hid for an hour, high
in a tree and I found him
sitting right next to me.
And when I turned my head,
I found him all around,
basking in the bright yellow
buds, sunlight searing high.
Making no sound,
he grasped my hand,
held it tight, and then
slowly let it go again.
And the yellow petals
scattered windward,
while white clouds washed
the bright sky like words.
Alone, I sadly thought
and scrambled silently down
to the waving field of clover.
But I felt a weight on my palm
and so slowly turned it over.
Painted there in pastel nectar
was the shape of a dove,
a symbol of peace, a reminder
that I am loved.

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