once

once,

when  my ears were small
words were few
little hands, little feet
barely used

a song bird sang,

to my heart beat
its rhythm,
its melody

once,
years accrued

words came
my finger tips
became agile on
guitar strings

a song bird freed

from my lips
of when my ears
were small 
with little hands
and little feet

a melody and rhythm

to the beat
of your heart now
touches the strings
with my finger tips

it's your song, mamasita

hold me

hold me

if but for a moment
fill an emptiness,
lately, ever present  

a void
a sense of loneliness
vulnerable

I’ve skipped the stone in the stream

walked the path in the woods
listening to the birds

witnessed the wonderment

of a silhouette fly into a crimson sun
winked at stars of night
waved good morning to the
waking golden eye

for this I am grateful

solitude is my friend

and reminds me of
how small I am  

this emptiness,

ever so salient