I want to be a compass of you,
your every location
a common place
to my pilgrim's touch.

Erupt and replenish me:
your volcano self, fertile ash
that I till into gardens;
the amazon banks of your rivers
from which I pan gold.

This is an understanding,
the north and the south of you:

Beneath the polestar
where I wait, the movement
of auroras to guide me

home.

10/03/2011

Author's Note: Written for my dear friends' wedding: October 1, 2011.

Posted on 11/13/2011
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