patience

On the window pane

I sit, and I stare. My feet

send love letters to the speckled

cement below but I wait,

for what I am unsure.

my gaze roams aimlessly

over the melting trees and I wonder-

A raven sits perched on one shoulder;

a crow, on the other, and

together we bow our heads

and in our moment of darkness

I understand what it is I wait for.

You have no bearing on my soul even

if I

or perhaps, it is you?

convince myself otherwise.

I learn

through pain

and confusion, in the little

splinters that pepper beneath my thighs

and surrender tiny kisses,

that I do not live

for you and I do not live

for whatever my imagination may

long for

but to melt

alongside those trees and

to grow among them.

I work

to understand

the way their roots hold hands

beneath the ground in quiet support and

mutual love;

I long for their reaching arms

to hold me tight

and lift me

towards the sky. But I accept

the warning breeze

that the raven

and the crow

will guide me there, one day

and for now

I sit on this window pane.