I still listen to the trees.

“. . . share the poem that changed the way you see rain.”

- Aarik Danielsen

I still listen to the trees because of you,
and that long walk beside the poplars. 

I listen to my own voice too.
I had to find it first.  And my spine.
And the steel that runs through it.

I learned what my desire sounds like
when it wants to touch your face.

I reacquainted myself with the timbre of my laugh
when it runs outside to play in the snow.

And so I am decided:  to use all that you have given me to forgive you for not wanting me.

Or perhaps for wanting without love.

I will take what you didn’t know you gave.
And all that I gave that you didn’t know to take —
I will take that, too.

Welcome them both home like the older and wiser sisters they are.

And once we’ve had our fill of long nights flopped across the couch sharing stories and secrets,
once we can tell our tales with the dry yet wistful eyes of wisdom...

Maybe.
Maybe I will venture out to give and take again.