Where I Meet You

You are the one that I meet in the sacred places ---

In the cool shaded woods where ancient pillars have erupted from the earth,

And singular notes from bird's song echo as if in a hallowed cathedral,

And the soft sweeping sound of a brook's dancing 

Over stones can be heard as an eternal whisper;

Under a wondrous night sky where infinity could not be better explained
Than in the silent staring back
Of thousands of eyes that have long since closed 

Before our beginning;

Within the cavernous wombs of vaulted ceilings holding ---

And nearly bursting from --- 

The limitless words poured forth in hushed petitions and shouts of praise

To that which still remains unknown;

In a flock of starlings at twilight, moving together as one heaving, breathing,

Miraculous organism;

Between the lines of a poem that read like a prayer;

Within the notes of a song that seems to have always existed inside of me;

In the rooms of the dying and the tombs of the dead

With air hanging heavy from all that remains

Unspoken.

You are the one with whom I can exist in the spaces without words.

But you are not to be encountered in the everyday of living ---

The morning routine of awakening,

The preparations made for the predictable day ahead,

The simplistic reporting of what we experienced when out of each others' sight . . .

Your body I will never know in the act of

Folding & enfolding

Of skin together in a playful dance.

Yet when I stand in the space where time stands still

And stillness falls over me like water,

Where the infinite becomes visible amongst the finite objects

Of our existence,

And I can do nothing but do nothing

And breathe . . .

I can say with clear knowing:

You are here  

You are here.