I Want To Know Myself

I want to know myself 

as the rain knows 

to fall to the good Earth.

I want to be drawn, taken, 

stripped down to breath 

and bone 

and nothing.

I want to know myself as a mother knows 

the smell of every nook 

of her newborn’s soft, rolling skin…

as her newborn knows 

the gurgles of mother’s intestines 

and the beat of her 

bright, scared, strong heart.

I want to stand tall on a mountain top,

the land and sea open 

and celebrating before me.

The sun, golden and radiant, wrapping, 

claiming the pulse of life.

Tears falling, forever, caught by 

the warm, thirsty soil.

I want to know myself as leaf knows

and caresses blossom.

As branch knows trunk, 

and trunk knows root,

and root knows push and reach and grow,

thick and down and out

toward and only ever toward 

the most lush, golden nectar below.

And as tree reaches up, always 

for the light, knowing not if it will ever meet 

the source of its life giver,

yet still reaching, forever reaching.

Reaching for where it came from, 

for what it is remembering,

reaching for what it is becoming. Now.

Free and clear and fully here.