Sober 15
Ponderosa fronds bursting like the 4th of July, baby pinecones erupting in their centers
The hot smell of pine on the wind like a Christmas candle put out with fresh soil
Waterless, dry but not desolate, full of life like the Asters or the Albert’s squirrel
Empty like no one else is left to appreciate the solitude
Full like all the souls who loved this place before, still lingering in the bark, on the wind
Reflections on our commitment to each other like the river and the shore always bending towards the same direction
A change that we cannot quantify because it is so profound like a forgotten epiphany as you wake from the dream
Now aware of our surroundings like the little lizard trying to disappear on the log
Now lost in the track of time like our future is there with us in the present
What evidence do we find of the butterfly’s success like the eating of a whole oak brush
What evidence do we find of our healing like the strength in our legs to climb the mountain
What will do we carry alone even as we persevere together like the ember kept safe for our common fire
This nature of ours is divine our hearts and souls entwined like the constellations in the night sky
And to infinity we will carry each other eternally like the wind and the water and the sun and the singularity that we have become