homegrown

blinding daylight gone seeking

past the old city cemetery

to disappear into the violets

adorning the spires

of the earth’s bones

where i once bedraggled begged

for the privilege of dying

sickly, silent, unsung, astray

under your porch steps, sleepwalking

into the mercies of your porcelain sky

all in alignment, ordained in my orbit

your sun sings mirrored rings

to all sides of leaning vines

i grow now into myself

where hazel patience

comes to know me

tilling souls in the garden rows

taken root to thrive

in the salted caramel clay

of your eyes

on their softest days

fall awake into grace

and cosmic works in juniper galaxies

where you shed your sharpness

like an ill-fitted skin

you keep what you have earned

and praise what you have been allowed

and i learn gentleness there

as you’re upstanding in your void of voices

and open hands, and bodies more able

unblinking, unyielding, always grateful

that the light’s always green

and you’re shy that it sounds so simple

but it’s supposed to

because it is.

it’s always a good day

to have a good day

where the bluebells bend

to your laugh’s violin

and i find you in constellations

of virginia spring beauties

slanted, up high, unassuming

in crown-shy pillars growing seamless

into polite gaps against sunbeams weaving

to make space for each other

as we do

assured i am not the serpent

with joy etched into my skin

by teardrops in your thumbprint

and tendrils of the heart of you

lacing through to pull me up

to drink from the renewal

that turns my greys

to brilliant blues

light-lender, sky-render

look at what your heart has made.