If you cannot follow my train of thought
it does not mean that a train does not exist
‘may be, it’s a train you haven’t ridden yet
nor had an interest to.
or life just never gave you maps
through hills true to me as mine.
as fashioned by a heavenward divine
who made the body many parts
many branches from one vine.
and several paths to walk at each life time.
perhaps my mind has traveled roads
that you don’t know and never will
though I hope you might
though I hope you’d walk with me one night
two nights, tonight?
from darkness into daylight sometime.
or maybe only in the sunshine
along the shoreline…
because the body is many-parts-make-one
so Hands, so Belly, Knees and Lips
let’s ask of Nose to smell the sun
on drying seaweed stretched along the rocks
and ask the Ear what water sounds like
and tell us, Soles, of the meeting of hot sand and feet
that Our Soul, no longer divided against itself,
may find peace, harmony,
may weep when Elbow weeps
may leap when Back Bone’s strong
may find unity, finally as a House where Spirit dwells
and Heaven’s here on Earth.
Perhaps my life’s a long path where I unfold–
Perhaps our lives are a long path where WE un-fold–
Perhaps eternity’s where We’re un-done
Copyright © 2019 A.M. Wilsonne