Love Letter #26: Missing Sedona

 

I will get back there
stepping over baggage
and red rocks

because a piece of me
was left in the pebbles
washed over by streams
and kindred voices of birds;
their lullabies, weeping

to me,
to mine.

At the very sight of you, Sedona
we ached,
like initials in an oak tree
we had never seen;
never carved into-
a wind wisped through his spirit,
then mine,

whispering secrets, revealing notes
we had heard a thousand times,
but never listened to.

Wings fell over my lashes
and the past went to sleep;
blew away in red dust
and starlight’s shimmer.

I awakened with an army behind me,
the sweet sound of harp strings
between my fingers,
and he, a pan flute,
in a state of melodic harmony
only angels could have orchestrated .

Oh, the skies there are smiling gold
with blue-gray tears calling me back,
loving me with winds of remembrance
haunting me in winter,
leaving me seeking that same air;
yearning from every corridor,
at sunrise and sunset
even my Texas sky full of stars
cannot subdue.

I will see you again, in Summer
touch your hills and harp
with trembling fingers,
take back my pebbles from your stream
and leave you my jeweled love
stacked in rock towers
with trembling fingers.

Until then,
I send you love letters;
poetry in bated breath,
from here

to the other half of my heart.

~

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