It is quite alright, anyway, sister,

this is one more reconfiguration,

a slip-slide to the right,

a gutsy careening downhill,

a pulling this part closer,

letting that old thing fall,

leaning minor or major to the left,

reaching past what obscures the way,

one leg rather tired maybe dangling

but another still dancing a jig,

one shuttered eye seeing as much

as it can, another luminous and brave,

while our spirits move in vivid infinity

or sing with the rivers, wind, stars,

and burnished wings stir old romances

the rock in your hand a shadow

of old hurt that will bruise no more,

as your rallying for the unwise or forgotten

becomes quieter (we all need mercies),

your thoughts rustle over blue-green lakes 

like a flock of startled geese,

and reflections ripple, smooth your  

face as your eyes widen and narrow,

two sunsets. I see the universal you

 

and the reason this is on my mind

(besides you being you)

is that all of us everywhere must one day

realign renovate rescue relinquish

transfigure our bound-up lives

into a more tender, valorous humanity,

into the torch of compassion,

a superior imagining of love

 

and so, also, we two–you and I–

will hang on, mosses clinging to dirt

on old paths remade for the detours

no matter what they inform us

no matter what you can no longer name

no matter if turquoise skies fade to grey

no matter when the next bell tolls

sounding each new arrival and leave-taking–

 

I will drop from the line and find you.

I will remember everything, my sister.

Especially and deeply for you.