feather on the floor

come walking over
and find me in
your own way
and tell me who
you've found

with a flower
between your lips
and dew pressed
beneath the tongue.

i am happy
you've found me
sitting beneath the sun
with eyes closed.

i tend to dream that i
know myself as
you know me,
but the image always blurs.

i see me as you do,
approaching, your
eyes mine and
we're smiling.

but nearer now
i, in you, collapse
to edges and the
image becomes all haze.

tell me:

do i dance? sing?
orate greatly?
pass on with the wind?
sigh against storms?

in my eyes i am
small, yet larger;
leaping with love
and abounding energy.

i am a victor
in my losses,
loyal to all comers
who dare breathe me.

i am the feather
on the floor i
discovered this
morning,

as meaningless and
random as any
natant dust
in a light.

but simply put
and no less important
and divinely placed
and no whim of God.

i was
i am
i will be perishable
but true!

come walking over
and find me in
your own way
and tell me who
you've found

just as i came
walking over this
morning and found you,
the feather on the floor

and found me.