By Appointment

Still not fluent in heartache.
Simultaneously training in acceptance
with her nuances of past, present, future.
Schooling in so many languages.

Love has been with me
since my own Mother’s womb
and yet there are still so many particulars
to this tongue I am acquiring.

Communication of grace,
intricate and profound.
Recognizable, yet I stumble
with the lucidity outside of many moments.

When that becomes too much
I start to attend to the birds
that seem to present to starving ears
in my backyard’s music hall.

It is then I become able
to hear the tiny red flowers
blooming, reaching
inside my bruised crevices.

This space that holds darkness
is offering the perfect return
to one’s native source.
It is the teacher I was listening for.

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