Between Two Griefs
last night while I
played in another realm of consciousness,
I felt your hand move against mine,
as if you were reaching out
from your own fantasia to make sure in this reality,
you weren't spending the storm alone.
I know you are stepping lightly
maybe crawling beneath another night
trying to reach the stars,
searching for their names,
as if they are buried
like the roots of trees beneath the skin of nature-
all things stem from somewhere
in our minds, everything begins and ends
within the pulse of this world.
yet I want to be recreated, in you,
to be granted definition through your labor-of-love
I was when mother and father were united
some years before the valiant fall
In my dreams-
I walk out into the storm,
so that you'll reach for me-
I want you to know my name.