you can’t keep your secrets from me
healing buildings with olive trees
roads nestled between ancient stone
kumquats in rose gardens
you made each worn path new to me;
we even put our name on one.
soup circles and cathedrals said:
the quiet and the storm.
the quiet takes the ship down.
forgiveness stops the storm.
soup and circling cathedrals
on starry summer nights
make speaking easier.
a thin place
living its title modestly; a home
each treasure gathered
on its wanderers’ journeys
welcomed; infinite space awaits
the sunflowers skimmed the sky,
or so she thought
until she was in her grandpa's arms,
where she could soar above them
lupins, lilacs, crabapples, more -
he brought her all the colours.
they took turns singing the sun to sleep
as a thank you, it left a painting
resting above the sea
then, scattered pinpricks of light
and they danced until morning
sisters weren’t allowed in the castle;
little cousins, however -
little cousins were defended
traversing the kingdom's wild forests,
meadows of poisonous plants,
lakes teeming with monsters.
little cousins learned
the view from the castle’s highest tower
could make even the most majestic treehouse
she wouldn’t become like him
he even tried to stop her
but he held the key
and time taught her too much
everyone has their own reasons
above the field floats many orbs
his stories, alive in the air
fewer weeds grow there each year
as he finds strength
in his own forgotten sunshine