Freedom

There are a million things I wish I could say,
and none at all,
as we roam through dreamscapes 
untethered,
or, in the light of day 
when we busy ourselves 
spreading tenderness. 
My body -
a container 
that can barely hold all the love I feel.
My mind -
a tool for perpetual reevaluation
and refinement of stories
I tell myself.
I feel you 
as powerfully as my own breathing,
always quietly present
beyond the messes 
and heaviness 
and happiness 
and hope.
I can sense each time 
the energy shifts
and I rise and fall with you in unison.
I see you in a way that shakes me out of 
stagnation. 
Murky waters get clearer by the day
and I find myself inching my way 
to the edge of my comfort zone.
What lies beyond the known?
How much room to create
can one find in
the unlabeled, 
the unclaimed,
the unconsidered?
I’d love to jump in -
but what if I only have enough courage 
to tiptoe?
Can I hold your hand?
Can we invite the moments 
and string together memories
without grasping 
or resisting?
Can we open ourselves up in ways 
we had been taught not to,
and lift each other up 
when it’s time to let go?
Can we show up 
with grace and grit,
unconditionally tender,
yielding 
and brave?
There are a million things I want to say
and none at all
as I hold you in my arms,
and my heart,
and my mind.
As I fall asleep to the movie of my life
it occurs to me 
that we are both simply travelers 
on our way to freedom.