In Writing

When someone loves me, I’ll fly high
I’ll swoop low and feel safe
I’ll twirl on a breeze and be light as a feather.

“I love you,” says the wind.
But the wind is too low a whistle for me to hear.

When someone loves me, I’ll plunge deep into every pool
Every dive a perfect swan
I’ll float effortlessly in a lake glistening with sun.

“I love you,” says the rain.
But I can’t hear it through my raincoat turned up around my ears.

When someone loves me, I’ll bask in the warmth of the sun
Everything illuminated
All the light in everything turned on.

“I love you,” says the sun.
But I am scared of getting burned, and I huddle in the shade.

When someone loves me, every step on the earth will feel sure.
I’ll grow roots, solid and strong
And everywhere I go I will feel lifted.

“I love you,” says the stone in the stream.
But I am afraid, and only watch from the shore.

“Someday someone will love me,” I say.
I mean you, elusive man who won’t show himself.
I mean you, love of my life who doesn’t seem to see my life slipping one day shorter all the time.
Who has no urgency, no map, no explanation.

“I love you,” says my daughter, my son, my mother, my neighbor, my friend, my town, the lone reader finding this on some dark night.
But I stumble and cannot hear.

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