a manner of loving

Soft wind kisses, an unseen bird calls glory-chirp-glory-sweet-day,
more tears well up beneath hazel rings.

I’m ready to be alone long enough to settle back in
to my skin after the long days
soulful songs, a parting with familiar.
(this quiet breath of poetry beneath an open sky
can be the first solitude)

I pray and strive to plant beauty
in the fertile soil of furrowed ground,

in the wake of all that has been since autumn

yet loving now with no illusions of distance,
soul to soul.

I will ache and cry a gentle spell each day,
knowing time will only glide forward.

I raise one arm to heaven and begin
to dance with the abundant beauty that is still my life,
for you have taught me there is no better way.