How do I call you now?
Or should I ask, how do you call me?
Is all of this life just a series of
Uncoverings?
You are to me a thousand things:
I’ve known you like a lover
Whispered your name under my breath
There were times I thought I might leave this arrangement, my pulse beating time like it
Lived its own life
Spirit too full to be held
I dreamed I left her in a ditch, the old body
Sloughed her off like the shell that she is
So that I might live
The irregular beat of my heart sent a thrill through my frame, this terrestrial thing
I hoped I could leave all behind me and go
Be with you
Like lovers do
And I’ve known you like a friend
Faithful and knowing and true
Combing through secrets and stories with me
Eyes twinkling, bright with seeing
I’ve never known anything like you
Or been known like this, too
I’ve known you like a father
Me just a sail to your wind
Your beaming benevolent goodness
Putting the world within reach
Discovering I believe
In you,
In me, too
I’ve known you like a mother
Steady, unwavering gaze
Bastion of comfort, sure and surrounding
On wordless, untouchable days
And what do I know you as now?
Here in the shadow lands
Here at the middle days
Here at the stilled-sun:
I’ve known a thousand versions of you
And I’ve loved every one
Sometimes I don’t believe I know you at all
But then again, do I know anyone?
And if I do know, what part?
How much? And how?
And so, my God,
Who more might you be to me now?