I don’t want to write it
Because then it will stick.
I don’t want it to stick,
to stay,
to find a permanent home in words.
I want it to pass.
I will behold it in the moment of its birth
its death.
Let it be…
For pity’s sake,
Not this one.
Not now.
That I could hold without capturing.
That I could feed freedom daily to thought,
to beauty,
to keep it as my pet...
No.
Let it be.
I love you.
It’s true.
I adore how unique you are.
The way the light shines in
and casts a glitter of dust across the room.
Just now.
I hear the buzzing
Whirring
Electric air
It doesn’t empty you of this:
A knowing embrace of here and now.
But I don’t want to write it.
I want to leave you where you are,
A wild creature
for me to see with my eye,
For my mind
to fill in the airy spaces with thought,
belief,
unseen,
things known.
And now,
in this way, I never really see you
for how you are
…which seems sad.
But it is a gift to me
when my Creator spins the world this way
for me to see it
this way…
a gift.
I cannot share it
I cannot keep it
I dare not write it.
