
edge
perhaps it is at the edge of this world where in one another we find home and together with the wild birds run free
perhaps it is at the edge of this world where in one another we find home and together with the wild birds run free
my heart like a murmuration of starlings races, swooping and soaring all throughout these rosé wine skies aglow and glimmering twilight like a murmuration of starlings i'm flying here in the light and over there in the shadows somewhere, i know there is a pathway or a secret door somewhere here in the open wild of these fields, windswept and pink or here somewhere, in this enclave of elms, shifting and shady i am sure, i am sure... here is the pathway or the secret door like a murmuration of starlings i long for home to feel forever somewhere here or there or somewhere anywhere this skin soft landing in your arms your arms holding holding my heart
have you heard it before? the land as it whispers the voice of soft soil underneath soles—bared to the earth calling calling out your name in the wind in the wild wild wind and singing between canyon walls and among the tall and slender reeds, your name Come, come home — it says — into my arms stretched out open and wide, and into my heart. and i run i run right into this wild wind without resistance as these whispers of land and soft sacred soil singing sing straight into my heart and i run and run right into these waiting arms into this heart i run, i run and run and run i run home
singing in pink light this crown of floating petals carries my heart home
What is it for you, which carries your heart back to your faraway home? Be it geographical or temporal distance? Have you ever felt that? That twinge? That pang in your heart when the great distance announces itself abruptly, with such eloquence? Suddenly, in a moment, you are both here and there. Or rather, simultaneously there and not there.
For me, it is sakura*—the cherry blossoms. Their delicate lightness acquiring a new sense of gravity in a home away from home. Bittersweetness, in full bloom. And so still, i dance under the trees of pink reverie; drunk with beauty. Here and There. Everywhere.
*While the chrysanthemum may be the national flower of Japan and the seal of the imperial family, sakura—the cherry blossom—is without doubt, the national “people’s flower” of Japan. When sakura blossom in spring, many people enjoy walks or picnics and parties under the soft canopies of pink petals. Many years ago (before the date which it was published), I wrote another blog post which illuminates the significance of sakura in Japan: https://michiruadrienne.com/2021/06/02/grace/