In the morning light, a wide yawn — opening expectant.
Waiting for the new day to show my reflection in the water’s light,
waiting for the sky to greet me with dappled clouds,
to see me.
I am so many things. Seen and unseen.
A longing waiting to be fulfilled. Waiting for you to find me.
Not me, swimming on the surface like water striders,
me underneath woollen blankets, linen sheets.
Me at first light, with hot coffee, pale skin, stale breath — breathing hollow shapes into the wintry morning air.
I am so many things. Seen and unseen.
A warm hand extending a welcome, a cold retreat.
A smile, sometimes vacant, sometimes full
of stormy clouds and unpredictable grief.
A song of forgiveness. A song of joy. A song of hope.
I am so many things. Seen and unseen.
Deep-rooted and following braided rivers.
A broken wing, the earth beneath the ground.
Streams that flow to an ocean of belonging.
Emptiness and Everything
Yes, I’m so many things.
Gwen B
Hiding Lily by Gwen Bryce
