When I run my hands on your bark,
I feel the structure of my own skin;
woven together with the same warp, the same weft,
informed by the same source.

The way we overlap reminds me
I am not alone.

I imagine other similarities;
that your roots are my roots,
poured into the same primal stuff,
dug in deep and suckling from the earth.

In my grasping for the sky
fingers outstretched
I feel the same stretch of your limbs,
aching for sun and cool air.
We are stirred gently together,
and the rain wets our same soul.

Pulse with me. Hold on!
I will wrap my arms around you,
and feel you reach into my heart.

Prana is pressing us together,
and pulling us apart.

Breath on breath;
beat upon beat.


- Teal Marie Chimblo
November 3, 2007
Lenox, MA