it’s my fated returning
of bark unto vine –
where cedars embrace the maple
lucious blackberry
and muscadine blue
are weaved together a rhyme
no sweeter could be
of places not far
miracles hid in plain view
sworn as allegiance
our wonders to bring –
holy most holy
of all we are due
washed by the rivers
of stormclouds to spring –
rush me til breath falls away
stand with me currents
made dear by returning
cypress and hickory
sunlight and shade
lie with me now –
in words without meaning
or mention by name
til less they might be
taste of these tears
as seasons
pass over – one
love becoming
a forever I knew

. . .