I should have known
all along that
it wasn’t about him or
you.

It was about winter versus summer,
the way a storm fills the air with terror and
pure electric joy,
and how my heart could not contain

two dreams, two loves, two futures
without a future of my own.

Shadow danced with sunshine
until I hardly knew which was which–
love has a funny way of blurring all the edges

and making psychosis the unconscious hero.
You were me and I was him and we three were one, then two, then none.

Crazed with longing, I
abandoned the border of half-felt dreams
and journeyed to a far country,
red and fair, .
until I found my face in the water and the wind.

Then I knew
it wasn’t about him or
you.

It was the cry of one lonely owl hunting for her nest
before being caught by the rising dawn.

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I love you like the edge you are,
hard and breathless, senses intimate with disaster,
and hung half way between heaven and earth.

If I just let go of your precipice,
then I would fall heart-first into the ocean of love,
overwhelmed in waves, un-making my soul.

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One glance, one beat, heart leaps up
to hear her name claimed
by every wind-swept mountain

a lonely call between worlds,
edge dizzy with choice and fate.

Sleep comes hard to morning hours,
between night, and day
caught in a whitethorn thicket

their spears pierce a timid sky,
dark fingers searching for life.

Distant ring of ancient bells,
sound of melting snow,
silver branches dropping down

softly, heart sets free her voice,
awakened dawn, a swan sings.

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