I won’t say the things that I have to say,
the feelings furrow all alone in the autumn mist,
until you finally get up and walk away,
and the chills that have eyes blow us their last, snowy, purpley kiss.
I cascade over the heights of your frozen, mountaintop world.
I skate upon your silky sweet, ice cream smile.
Deep in the forest, they write, sleeps the world’s most beautiful girl.
She awakens when you, inside yourself, find her missing child.
This is the light where the world can’t come in.
When we look into each other’s eyes what do we really see?
Together, the holly from Gethsemene flows into the Jordan’s bend,
feeding flowers opening brightly, resonating the mountain’s inner dream.
I am the god of the sea,
the fire in the rain spattering and splashing love.
When I swim to the surface, you are released.
When I dive to the bottom, you fly to heaven like a dove.
We are caught between two worlds.
I’ve seen your sails blow close to my shore.
One here, the other holding my baby girl.
Those eyes that shine, open at last, the secret, magical door.
Something primordial says that “she is my wife.”
But the harder I chase, the faster she runs away.
We’re out here on the playing fields, the field of our life.
And it’s only when I stop does she, a metaphor for something deeper, turn around and stay.
When I first saw her, it felt like I envisioned a ring
© 2013 Stephen Pickering
that could bring back all of the things I’d ever loved.
She’s the white buffalo maiden who sings atop Harney Peak,
the princess in the snow marrying the sacred below with all that’s above.