My good guru taught
The art of mischief-making
As a parting gift

Soft, graphite fingers
Inky, arms-length embraces
This, is how we touch

Morning, noon and night
It seems I’m never certain
How much me’s too much

I’ve torn down the gates
Hold back none, and give my heart
To God, My Boy, You

Do you hear us hush
When you hold your blessed pen
And love us out loud?

I watch you juggle
Ferocity, goodness, grace
You’ve found the balance

I don’t know just when
But I will stand at your side
With you and for you

Unease is the sieve
That filters untruths, and now
I’m indeed alive

You tucked me in tight
When I slipped from your shoulder
Didn’t you, you knight?

I’ll place in my hair
That Hope Flower you planted
When I feared the rain