and the way your arms held me, solid as oak boughs
I've been climbing, searching for the sky.
Oh if I could, for a minute set down
the fleeting, unbound wind for steady tides
Perhaps I would find my way to you.
But I set my compass
To the far off promise of horizons
Instead of the incalculable, stagnant stars
And I took measure by the growing stalks of daffodil
And not the ancient and unchanging rock
I should have known to trust.
It is a heavy thing to carry,
this heart that pulls at the sinews
and veins that tether it
It is a heavy thing to carry
This heart that yearns to leave
This heart that longs to be loved.
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