I am often asked
If I believe in God…
It feels like
An unfair question
Anything about
Believing
Or about beliefs
As mine have so often
Needed to
Shift
To accommodate
New information
New ideas
And new ways of
Being.

Coyote speaks
in the darkness
at a distance
in the forest
as the mist
makes the air
heavy
conductive
Your soprano
howl
operatic
swells and resonates
through the air
warbled and elongated

Maybe this is a moment
where poetry fails
to communicate
the extent to which
you matter.
But I want to
at least try
and convince you of
the possibilities
that are just beyond
the horizon.
The birds will tell you
up there in the sky
what they have seen.

The welling up
Eyes become portals
Of wordless emotion
This is all
So beautiful
The only right thing
Right now
Is to cry
As warm
Sticky caramel
Sunlight
Ravishes the
Sexy green
Of summer leaves
Red haze through

I suppose I have
always loved
watching the rain through
big picture windows
for there is
a preciousness
to being here human,
feeble,
Woman.
If outside, uncovered
I would be
far too overcome