As I tell us my story of you,
The tension of your omnipresence spills
All over the tangible world
Like a child splattering its wholesome glory
Over a ripe canvas.
Everywhere I am,
You are —
For the trees to breathe in,
For my father to hear my giddy delight,
To guffaw with my friends,
For you to oust my secret stories
Out of the woodworks.
For the mountain-tops
To rejuvenate the air
And draw a portrait
Of you.
The ripple has ceased,
Longing has eased —
One of those dilly-dallying days
If I think of you again,
I need only spread my tendrils
And grin.
