leaning our yearning bellies,
stretching our bone-tired limbs to a sky
whose blue depths suggest our lives a thread among many,
so many weaving and woven, speaking and spoken trails of being
along a path more varied than we allow ourselves to know
as we sprawl out under sun, sighing,
knowing so much of the smallest “truths” posing rightness
and in our knowing an assurance overdone,
not quite real until we allow ourselves to feel it all,
to welcome the sink seep into bones
this deep awareness of the hues we all provide
this grand canvas that is life,
eternal.
in spite of all evidence to the contrary,
we hum a melody long after we’re gone…
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