How might I
Rebuild this courtyard
In my own home
How may I
Recreate a sense of calm
In my own home
How might we
Build onto our home
To say, be here
How may we
Give space, give life
To our imaginations
How might you
Come, or go
Just as you please
How may you
Effect, affect
Such concrete solutions
The olive
The tiny leaf
The large leaf
Their present life
Brought to an end
Detached from the food source
They will without doubt decay
Maybe to be turned into compost
Or become lost in the landfill
As may these few words
Which I, yes, maybe only I
Choose to call a poem
I touch the olive to the leaf
I smile
This day has hidden me from grief
I see his photograph on the book
He smiles
This day has opened up, to take a second look
I invoke an atmosphere almost mute
We smile
This day spa, has one neatly active water chute
100 beads of sweat
One olive, one leaf
On the manicured log
I hoped to belong
To belong
Is what I truly hoped for
To find a silence
A hoped for silence
In that song, where I belong
100 beads of sweat
Ten minutes, no more
From brow to bench
Brow of belonging
To bench of longing
Every bead just one more step
Steps
More steps to where I long
Steps, yet again, to help me belong
Longing
Longing for belonging
Belonging
In the longing for longing
Belonging
Belonging without longing
Longing
To hide away from belonging
Longing
Longing
Longing
Oh longing for belonging
Longing
Longing
Longing
Oh belonging with the longing
Longing to belong
Belonging to long
Oh belonging
Oh longing
