Waking

 

Unbidden or

at times, bidden

 

bear shadows appear

usually in glimpses 

a tease between trees

 

or perhaps

on old snow

where tracks swell velveteen, 

softened like starlight

in the melting.

 

Break up 

is too harsh a word

for the giving way

 

too brittle for the mosses 

that once frozen, now

breathe 

in exhales invisible,

whispered

at your cheek.

 

It is too hard a word

even for bears.

No word is close enough

 

for the waiting

for the questions

 

as with each step 

your palms tingle

and the opened ground reaches 

like spring 

for your ear

 

as if pressing it

to the thawing

could lend words

to a prayer

 

and release

the bright sounds of our

waking.