if you are looking for me,
you will find me in the garden,
tree root dreaming

on these nights when I
forget how to sleep,
I light the candles
one, two, three

the star shine looks
down on me; they
love me ~ bare-bone
thin and they want to
feed me

one week ago, I
woke up to a cold
morning, and saw
the doe in the garden,
she stood in soft solidarity
beside Magdalene

my life is full of these
dreams
that are not
dreams

tears fill my eyes and
my heart breaks open
it is the honey bee
treasure
it is the butterfly
medicine

it fills in the holes
left by the shattered
glass

she looks at me, she
knows the name within
my name - my feet have
been charged, they
know the way

so you and I, take
the full moon walk,
and drink owlish wine
out of clay cups ~

we laugh until we cry,
tender hands to draw
closed the tears ~ it
is the sweetest, safest
place to look at the little
girl's sad, hopeful face ~

I have listened, and pulled
out the quiet night tune ~
let's slip out of these heart
break boots, and see what
we can do . . . .