by Yon Walls

  

We

Don’t watch it’s waxy comeliness anymore

From the cool bathroom window

Or out among the garden vines

To chase it further back

Into the deeper jet sky

To see it better.

The transition object that never

Leaves the transitional body

Changing as fast as a bird’s

Turn of song

As ice melting.

 

It is there

Because we need to find it, every time

No matter how well we know it

As new constellations erupt in our hearts,

Knitting and re-knitting our souls

Patient for the darkness to pass and the incubating life

To make us fearless;

For new dreams, ears, new

Skin to feel with.

 

It is our

Sky candy, shinny and lustrous

From season to season telling us

Mythical and faraway stories, showing us how to be

Just still

To honor the refrain and

To pray.

 

It is our antique sky-maker

And our long ago

Cells and tissue that remembers

All that happened

Where they were and

What they cast away

For love.

 

Suggested exploration prompt: What is remembered with time? What is loss with time?