The leaves turn slowly
and the fire leaping forward
catches heart wide open.
And so the stream flows
and breaks through the warrior’s heart
whispering, “alive”.
The dunes are on the move.
Sand and light are
just in sight of future exploration
drifting beyond their bodies.
Not content to stay or sit,
The dunes are on the move.
And encroaching upon our space,
like the sands, we shift
between appreciation and claustrophobia.
When the push of memory creates a bruise
that reminds us of the motion
just below the surface
and the wind above the surface
pushes the power of the loss closer,
The dunes are on the move.
Standing at the pier in the mid-morning light,
we were bearing witness to the world
Together.
And you wanted to write a poem
You said.
And in your witnessing,
your looking and seeing
and the Magnificent manner you have
of just
Being,
You were the Catalyst, the Connector, the Co-Creation, and Unification
of poetry, poem and poet.
So much blessing in your song.
If you have enjoyed Rebecca Frye's Poetry, then please be certain to e-mail her at rebeccahr[at]bellsouth.net and thank her for posting her Work.
Click here for a list of all of Rebecca Frye's Stories and Poetry at Sapphic Voices Authoresses.
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