Sta.sh
The world is calling to us,
tempting us with grassy expanses
and flowering trees surrounding
clear-watered ponds.
It has snuck magnets into our free hands.
It has given us cold rooms
and warm suns to tickle our skin,
to allow the fleeting fantasy of touch,
and it is calling us.
Dirt roads and walking paths
were made for our feet to
tread upon together until sunset.
The world has created fireflies
to act as fairy lights to guide us
past all pasts and restraint.
The world has gifted itself to us;
it recreates itself daily for us.
Let us not spurn it away.
Let us smell the wildflowers.
Let us chase the squirrels.
Let us pick the grass in the meadows
and weave chains of flowers
in the shade of young willows.
The world has created my hair
to be brushed out of my face.
It gives us my eyes to catch yours
and your hands to hold mine.
My eyelashes were formed
for wishes for you.
The world has created,
with infinite care,
me for you.
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