The cup of tea I make for you
Has something in it of the rustling leaves I saw yesterday while lying under the trees
Their gentle movement stirs itself through my fingers into the spoon

And when I go for my daily run
The sprint of our conversation this morning – when you laughed so hard I could see your belly dance – finds it’s way into my feet
I almost fly

As I sing into the silence of the afternoon
I notice in my voice remnants of the whisper I heard last night before I went to sleep
It was the sound of the moon speaking to the sound of breath
It lulled me, now it awakens

And when I shower
The words I wrote in my diary as I sat unshaded beneath the blue sky spill into the water and soak their aliveness into my skin

I start to pray now
And soon find myself in that cushioned space inside my mother’s womb, warm
The soft heart beat makes me feel held, safe

No separation or boundaries inside my head
No walls around my heart
Experience flows
One into the other
Effortlessly
Some moments are vibrant
Some less known
Some deeply etched in memories of foreverness

I remember the heat of summer as I walk down the snow covered path on a cold winter day
And the fire inside me burns