I am from…

I am from tadpoles and micha.

I am from finger cymbals and that ribbon of highway.

I am from bare feet and telescopes on the roof.

I am from love letters. The kind sealed in aluminum trunks and the sung kind.

I am from heavy boredom and empty tape dispensers.

I am from hauled library books and fourteen limp goldfish locked in ALTOID cans behind the shed. 

I am from teal countertops and weathered screened doors.

I am from the crack of a pecan and the infinite stir of rice pudding. 

I am from the cat-clawed red armchair and winter bodies pressed against floor vents.

I am from rivet gun recoil and rattling chocolate cabinets.

I am from tiny broken jaws and furry pavement.

I am from glitter glue and grilled cheese. The kind on white bread.

I am from Speed Racer angles and copper bound stones.

I am from Nantahala and the pumped white noise of a green gas lantern.

I am from wind chimes and the phantom weight at the end of my bed.

I am from tickled daddy-longlegs and slow crawling tears. 

I am from warp and weft lawn chairs and loyal eyes caught in the rearview.

I am from gaping mouths and heart openers.

I am

a daughter.

an artist…

a pilgrim…

an observer…

who will 

remember the dead bird in Cathedral Salamanca 

and the Cascade-Siskiyou labyrinth on a first quarter moon.

continue to find objects and hide them places.

try to remain curious.

observe the light in spaces.

gape at the abundance. 

let myself shake when I get excited…

and maintain giddiness even if it isn’t matched.

search for index…

the inanimate suffused with the animate…

even in absence. 

Trails and worn steps and red armchairs and shadows.

catch glimpses of the gift:

A view in the world and of the world... 

immanence and transcendence?

maybe.

thank the simultaneity.

IMAGINE THE WAKE: 

air spiraling in vortices behind me when I move through space!

ask a stone for permission before I pick it up,

leave a coin in the ear of a bronze rabbit for the next generation,

and find a way to become 

an alchemist.