I’ll pluck these scraps of light from between branches and leaves and slices of night. I’ll hold the honeyed glow from street lamps, catch every shooting star; and use them to stitch you a moon.
I’ll collect each raindrop and remember each tear. I’ll ebb and flow, I’ll drift with the river, until you can swim in my ocean.
I’ll sift through the words, taste each syllable, and cradle each name. I’ll burn through the extraneous and melt into verse. I’ll drink from the sky until I become your poem.
I’ll listen attentively to each chirp and buzz, every croak, caw, and splash; and I’ll rumble with every roar. When the wind blows, I’ll shake with the trees, creak with the wood planks, and ring with the chimes. I’ll sing for the sunrise and howl at the moon until I too am your song.
I’ll burn with the maples, root in the sodden earth, and float with the clouds across vast seas of blue. I’ll make love to each color until I can paint you a rainbow.
I’ll inhale the gardenia and follow the honeysuckle breeze. I’ll cherish each breath until I can give you a sky.
I’ll lie down in the dew covered grasses, dance through the shadows and soak up the light. I’ll treasure the seconds between hours, the moments between thoughts, the breaks between days.
I’ll peer into the peripheral. I’ll break beyond the frame and explore the outskirts of this dream. I’ll rise and fall until I am the treasure of which I speak. I’ll break open over and over again, until until I am the love that I seek.
© 2019 Cristen