transcendence

a tale from the trail

She floats above, a ghost.

Lithe. Nimble. Alone—

Not lonely.

*

She unloads turmoil upon my jagged clefts.

I bathe her in silent wonder.

*

I slumber in shadows of first light.

Heart framed in stone—

I am boundless.

*

In me, she exhales dusty secrets.

I swallow her fear.

*

Some days, she weeps.

*

Her bones, my rocks. Her skin, my earth. Her steps, our heartbeat.

I grace her with spirit and sinew.

She begs for redemption, midst tangled spiderwebs.

She runs upon me for hours.

*

In me, she spins her truth.

*

I mirror her footsteps: once fitful, now flawless.

Alone—

Not lonely.