You, Me, Love
I’m drawn to the little beach
where we caught crayfish,
skipped rocks,
taught the kids
the art of throwing bubblers.
I turn my face to the mid-winter sun,
close my eyes,
listen to the quiet, shimmering flow -
both of the brook and of me.
I stretch freely
from ground to sky
and beyond in all directions.
My breath expands,
blends with the trees
and the breeze,
just as they join me.
I feel you, me, Love.
Both the joy of the whole-hearted
way we lived together
and the sadness
of how broken-hearted
I felt when you died
are palpable.
A deepening departure
of judgment,
wrongness,
any pull to be
other than I am.
A freedom to tell, ask, feel,
grieve, laugh, cry, be…
The comfort of feeling at home in me.
Though I have known these before,
I lost sight a bit
enduring the pandemic.
As if social distancing
became a sort of soul distancing
that tapped a deep, tender place
of feeling scared and alone in the dark,
trying hard to understand.
Though healing and growth continued
and Light has been present,
there was a void.
Thank you for reaching through,
in ways powerful, subtle, and true.
As I fathom the fullness of me,
I am ever grateful
for you, me, Love.
Sarah Carlson
February 4, 2024
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