let us create

tonight I link up brave with Aliza Latta on her blog. Sharing hidden away writing that doesn't seem ready for the light of day. So here are two.

A restlessness

wrestles

below my skin

beyond currents of blood

through tendons and muscles

and burrows in my bones

then deeper

to a place I cannot point to

or touch

or even explain

except that

I know it is

my soul.

This restlessness is 

hunger,

that gurgles in the night

or a slow rising

of invisible wings

and the gentle lifting

of my chin to point

to that blue ceiling

speckled with collections of dandelion seeds

in preparation to take flight

when the wind sweeps a certain way.

But restlessness never uses

plain sorts of words

is never explicit or clear.

She is a haze that clouds

the places I rest

so that I am never certain

I am where I hoped I was.

She gives a depth to life

and reminds me the breadth of

living,

widening eyes and

opening windows to let in fresh air.

She never speaks,

but looks out every window she passes

with a little bit of

longing. 

********************

The strings tremble,

shaking out

a tune.

and the songs

that are sung

by the

trembling

are perhaps

the most beautiful

of all.