Yes, you heal the ground I walk on

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Yes, you heal the ground I walk on
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)

    You heal the ground I walk on. All the quiet

    things that my heart desires. This is a face
    that tells the truth. I tell myself whenever I
    look to you. There are tiny beads of light in
    your eyes. You taught me that we express
    ourselves in writing about our thoughts. It’s
    extraordinary to think just how far we’ve come
    in such a short space of time. You’re lovely.
    Kind. Your knowledge is sublime. Abundance
    in nature where I live is festive this time of
    year. You’re the most vulnerable. Strong
    stems from strong. Stories stem from pain’s
    metaphors, dirt and grace, the worship of the
    earth, and the praise of nightfall. I want to
    tell you that I’ve known pain, but I can’t. That
    sometimes there’s an animal inside of me.
    Up close it keeps its confidence, and a long
silence. I want to stop this weeping, but I can’t.

    You’re farthest from my mind now, sister.
    The root of fear, call it a shroud. The cloak
    and dagger game. Let this monkish branch
    unearth this truth about life, the angels, and
    the humanity that comes with maturity, and
    confidence. Gone are the days of mother, and
    father acting passionately towards each other.
    Now they sleep in separate beds. And so, I
    watch you blossom, and slowly fade away. I

    find Neville Alexander, Dulcie September,
Jakes Gerwel in this angelic vineyard. Dusk. Moonlight
    on your face, a prize. I find you all there.

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