Times Like These

This wasn’t on the milestone charts
The ones that say at three weeks
Baby can lean towards you for comfort
Didn’t mention that at four weeks
War would begin

At six weeks keep your eyes peeled
For those first real smiles – of course,
That day might have been somewhat
Overshadowed

By the bombing of a
School or a hospital
But the smiles of

An infant are all
The more precious

In times like these

And then at some point between
Week twelve
(Awareness of thumb and fingers)
And week thirteen
(First burbling laughter)
Your building is hit
And your life
Gone.

An Old Grove Forest Kind of Love

I wrote a song and popped the question to Thor yesterday. Who says proposing has to be a one-time thing? Doing our part to normalize the fact that relationships involve ongoing recommitment.

P.S. you’re gonna wanna see the ring 👀

OLD GROWTH FOREST

Old growth redwood tree trunks
Wider than our arms combined can reach
Have the ability to thrive
Through flood and fire and drought
And teach us that the beauty of survival
Stretching toward stars we’ll never touch
Is in gaining tools to cleanse the air,
Collect the rain, and share when times are rough

Our roots are twined around each other
Lending strength we’d never have alone
And our branches hold whole ecosystems
For our children, we’re their home
So I wait now as the ferns do
Unrolling hope like spools of ancient lace
Taking my chance to choose the person
The right day and time, and this beautiful place

On one knee on the forest floor
Asking you to share decades more
No matter what tomorrow brings
We’ll meet it wearing love like rings

Now that I know what I’m in for
I still want you
Let the years grow in rings
Around us as the trees’ do
Now that you know what you’re in for
Will you still have me?
It’s my turn to bend one knee

Fathomless as Threads of Time

You are a delicate handkerchief
Embroidered with gratitude
That you carry in memory of
A moment
You were found indisputably worthy

You are a well-patched sail
Lashed firmly to the mast
That carries our singing
Ever onward
Through all kinds of weather

You are an indigo thread
Braided tightly into my hair
That I carry with me
Across eons
To ensure I will always return

Please know:

I love the embroidery
Surprisingly dainty

I love the repaired seam
Holding firm in the wind

I love the way your fingers
Deftly tie love against my scalp

And I love the you that is
Uncaptured by these lines

Fathomless as threads of time.

(poem one of my DnD characters wrote for their partner Nemo)

Becalmed

What happened?
Did I lift my oar first
Or did you lift yours?

Did one of us leave it
Dragging in the water
And was it an accident if so?
Were we just pausing
To check the map
Or grab a snack
Or see if we were the only one paddling?
Am I the only one paddling?
Are you? Or are we just drifting?

If we could only bring ourselves to ask
If only we knew anything for sure
Instead we do the best we can

Now digging in with the oar
Feverishly
Swinging it from side to side
Now checking our progress
Frustratedly
Glancing from shore to shore
Now eyeing one another
Furiously
Lurching from sign to sign

Are you there still?
Do you care still?
There is no one like you in all the world

This I know
Better than I know my own strength
Letting you down
Not being able to fix it
Regardless of where the fault lies
Your pain
Leaves me eating sand
Our boat thumping down suddenly
In the desert

Get back in
Please
Bring your oar

I’ll push us off with mine
And we’ll find our rhythm
Until this turns out to be a sand dune so large
We just couldn’t see the ocean
Until we crest over the top
And plummet down the other side
Until we land with a splash
Miraculously upright, helpless with laughter
And wind catches the sail we almost forgot existed

Second Wind

Keen-eyed, creative, and kind, you are
Tornado strong
You dance
Holding here
Releasing there
Now letting me hold you up
Now standing firm on your own
Now floating on a gust of exuberance
You lift me and blow me away
Far from my fears
Your persistence
it bolsters me
Billows and buffers me
Ceaseless as our love is.

(poem one of my DnD characters wrote for their partner Rezza)

Anniversary

You get to decide what last night means for you
For me it is a lid
Twisted onto a jar of all the times I didn’t speak up
I’m keeping the jar
I’m keeping all the good times
And I’m keeping you

You get to decide what last night means for you
For me it is a promise
That I’m not going to smooth things over anymore
At our mutual expense
That I’m done with smooth as a goal
That we’re going to be ok

You get to decide what last night means for you
For me it is a corner
I can see hope glimmering around it from here
So I’m dog-earing it
To make sure I don’t lose my spot
And then I’m holding your hand

So I don’t lose you either

And whatever you decide last night means for you
I hope in time you’ll tell me
When you do, I’ll wrap my arms around you
As you try carrying it lightly
Twist the lid, embrace the gravel
And turn that corner with me.

Loved As Free

I need to be held not confined
I need to be cozy not cramped
I need to move not be jostled
I need to be still
I hate being kept still

I need to be seen not scrutinized
I need to be valued not pedestaled
I need to be cared for not infantilized
I need your perspective
I hate when it can’t coexist with mine

I need to be loved for me
I need to be free to love
I need to be me to love
I need to be loved as free

I need to be asked not interrogated
I need to be heard not echo chambered
I need you to speak but not steamroll
I need the silence
I hate being silenced

I need to be laughed with not be mocked
I need to be vulnerable without feeling needy
I need to have novelty not be shocked
I need to be alone
I hate being lonely

I need you to be there when I’m lonely
I need you respect my need to be alone
Please come to me when you are lonely
Please tell me when you need to be alone

I need to be loved for free
I need to be me to love
I need to be free to love
I need to be loved as me

Time Lines

Most have evaporated, leaving those
Pierced by a thousand backward glances
And those that fell into permanence
As light on silver halides.

I carry them everywhere
Familiar as lullabies
But don’t rifle through too often
Novel as longlost, starcrossed love
So they remain: both
Potent
And too few.

This one begins mundane
(Bedroom floor excavation)
And ends galactic
(How is infinity?)

That one is treasure and portent entwined.

It’s been a long while since I last glimpsed new
(Ghostlike, as for pregnancy or pandemic)
From the wavy mirage.

But that doesn’t stop me from looking.

Sacred

Words are just sound shapes until we add meaning
Tears are just saltwater rain
Home is just house till inhabitants wish it
Birth without hope is just pain
A ring’s just a circle till it’s linked to a promise
An agreement to never let go
Sacred is not in an object inherent
Nothing is sacred that we don’t make so

Incognito Delight

Isn’t it delicious to look
At the sampler of humankind in the rain
From the rim of your teacup

And realize that they are all
Smuggling secret joy
Somewhere on their person?

It streams behind them like ribboned mist
(Or perhaps that’s just steam from
Your own cupped hands)