We call certain things the

mysteries, the biggest probably

is why we fall in love but next to

that is what happens after,

when our bodies give way

and our souls move into the

source, if that is what happens,

I make no claims of knowing

but she does, sweetheart of

pies, she knows now, and in

her best form, she will write it

all in invisible ink, write on the

clouds between the stars on the

dark side of the moon behind

aurora borealis in raindrops and

snowflakes rising over waves

under and around lake ripples

write it all so we would know if

we could and in our tears today

she writes what she knows

 

For Karen

by Nancy Taylor Day

June 16, 2011