I’m glad you met today’s self
Thank you for this large pocket of a day
that gave us time to quietly slip our eyes
inside and behind each other,
for leading us to fairytale structures
made by human and earth,
forces of water and plant, power and scent.
A new memory we linked to lavender,
cold blackberry seeds, statues of cats.
As deep afternoon began to close,
we climbed a waterfall that could
soak the Eiffel Tower.
At first I thought I’d been there before —
I’m glad I was wrong and that my first memory
of this tall stone jungle was with you.
Or maybe I wasn’t wrong, and I simply
don’t remember enough — a day’s
memory that has slipped away
like dreams do if you don’t hold on
to them; a lost moment belonging to
a former self made of former cells,
within this lifetime, but still as far as a
lifetime away inside…
I’m glad you met today’s self
made up of today’s cells that are rich like soil,
cells that buzz like gratitude would,
if gratitude were struck by lightning
whenever you’re nearby
or somewhere close in mind.
As we reached the top
I gave a breath away to blue mountains,
massive, painted in sun,
finding glee in what I could see on the earth’s face
and also yours, holding gemstones
almost ready for you close,
opening a skylight in my heart
that your eyes could look through,
microscopically, big blue diamonds
sparkling back as I wave hello and
welcome.
.
.
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© 2022 Alma Ortman. All Rights Reserved
