Author: Elizabeth Maynard

I had it wrong from all those fairy tales:
thought the story lay in you finding
and winning me

Now I see that is
necessary but
insufficient

Loving me
is the beginning
not the end

Tonight I feel my placelessness
acutely
I am a stranger
both here and there
even familiar places, foreign

Curiosity and fascination
pull when you speak of home
belonging
people who might take you in
call you their own

I am ready for this
abundance
excess
you suggest

It is not necessary 
for you to love me
we can ignite 
something utterly

superfluous

We walked the cold beach
searching for agate
smooth and sand-polished
the promise of
each luminous drop
pulling us further from
where we began
the warm shelter of your car
could never compare
to that hour passed
holding your hand
there on the edge of the world

You lent me a word:  adversity
but I want to give it back
I've had enough
of what I've created
and the world's greater heartache
On this cold morning
let's choose another:
lush
lovestruck
now

You live so cautiously
afraid of each misstep
measure every word
and fear its landing

Take a breath
consider your life
what is more precious
than safety?

We are rumored to be
these multi-layered things
revealing with tears
all that lies hidden

We stumble to tell stories
strangers to each other
in all but cursory ways
yet I dreamed all night
of the rock on which you were born
the people who came before you
and wait for you
the long-absent warrior
to return

Before we were tame
I would have loped up beside you
nuzzled your neck
and given you a good lick

We sit here
at the end of a year
marking each loss and grief

When Lazarus fell unconscious
how many did it take
to carry him to the tomb?

And did his hovering spirit protest
when you raised him
and made him weep in the world again?