You climb
The few stairs
Bolted uncertainly
To the soft earth

And you are gone from me

Tossed into space that blurs
The world
Into an impossible rainbow

Turns the treetops
Into the swaying cradle
Of your fleeting dreams

Makes you the queen of a sky
Out of which stars fall into your open hands.

Your voice makes music
Of pure delight.

Down here
I hold your prizes from the arcade games
Your bags of taffy and kettle corn
Your few remaining coins

And the sweater
I insisted on.
(The walk to the car is always cold.)

In minutes
You will return,
Having tested the bond
Between our worlds.

It holds.
It brings you back

It keeps me
Following.

“This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” (Rumi)

One Single Impression