Author: Elizabeth Maynard

We are home, tired
after trekking in a forest all morning
listening for the calls of those
who live high above an earth
that holds us so firmly in her grasp

This voice singing
trembles and does not know the tune
each note stings a dry throat
too tired to whisper
sigh or stutter

My shoulder throbs
from two small stitches
binding flesh to flesh
to tie up every wounded thing
These at least are visible
unlike the sorrow carried
deeper still and unwilling
to be bound and mended

It is time to sleep
wish every unwelcome thought goodnight
dive headlong into the other world
to which we belong only fleetingly
without sense or memory
fear or failure

You have no idea
how much you love me
Never stopped to count
eyes fixed on the rutted road
every turn and drop
If only you had looked up
to know my clear blue sky

With most pleasures unfamiliar
I thought duty would redeem
days and hours, lifetimes too
but all work, we know
makes not only dull but desperate
dry and unable to breathe

We lived lives the other never dreamed
you went no further than the ridge
river, dark of the woods
all that was real for you
rose and fell in that singular place
you could walk the boundaries
of your whole world in one long day
But I have never known
how to find myself at home
always adrift among worlds
longing for rest and the last
wandering year

If I knew how to weep
I would dash heart-first into it
So many tearless years
and burdens borne
dry sands and seas crossed
companionless and holding
my breath so long
surely I must have flown by now

I wash my hands again
to lose the touch of you
ready now for everything
to be new and full
of the unbreakable promise

I spun all week dizzy
imagining your need
hungry to meet it
Now I do not know
how or where to rest
misled by my own
keychain compass