It's a hard grope.
Digging around in the rich soil
Stubbing fingers on sharp things
Missing those smooth things
That pass over and under my
Fingers like small breezes
The touch and brush and go
And then something makes
Me stop and feel and look
More closely and just look
Trying to hard focus my eyes on
Something so small that it's
Huge and enormous and
Why didn't I notice it before.
Why?
Well, that's why I keep exploring
Examining very detail
Hunting for that one something
That I know I must have missed.
Finding you is like breathing:
I do it all the time.

09/23/2005

Posted on 11/16/2005
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