By Marc

At the turn of dawn, 
my form and feeling still quiet and yearning, 
I left my shoes behind and my soles 
marked the dirt and twigs where 
the path lay naked. 

Beyond each treelined opening 
the morning glow seized and swathed 
every basking window, and my skin welcomed the ephemeral touch 
and I was covered in nature and all. I thought I might lift off the ground, soft wind beneath my feet and wrestle with bristling leaves and before the frigid breeze trickled in with ease 
I thought of you 
and how caring you are, 
and you were imposed 
right then and there with nature and 
I felt glad. 

Arrested with adoration, and 
lulled to windswept fervor 
with an amorous presence. 
Which is what you gave me, 
I the bark and you 
the undone light, 
blazing and gliding toward the pale blue hearth of sky–

–it’s morning
And I realize a curious thing:
your eyes are made up
of millions and millions
of stars