This morning

What’s different about this morning
is I feel to the brim
with your giving heart
sturdy legs and abundant mouth
yet empty in your absence
marinating in the salty sweet residue of love
our passion cries gently melting from walls
glowing with blush of dawn.
Though I am sated
my body asks after you

this morning

it’s different
I feel calm
no hamster wheel churning stories
no wheels and cogs clanking possibilities
fear mongering
futile spin of elusive control
no crumbling cliff edge
no second shoe drop
nor great question mark
horns blaring red warnings
just serenity
amidst a familiar unknown
unfamiliar safety
in reciprocity
you walk at my side
no longer alone at a new horizon
encircled in the simple warmth
of every limb and finger
expanded ribcages
vibrating synchronous.

I face the dead dictator in my mind
for once, speaking truth
solid, untremulous
in right measure
I have broken no vow
paid all debts in full
you are fully justified
and beautiful.

Your hands are two cornucopias
overflowing with nourishment and lullabies
tenderly feeding
delicately handling me
a wild dove-hawk
now untethered
who instead chooses
to nestle in your sternum.

I wake from that dream into another
your fortress arms and reassuring breath
then wake again
to these sunrise-infused walls
where I rise in solitude
no longer solitary.

What’s different about this morning
is you have become flesh
and I have gifted you mine

What’s different about this morning
is we have finally met
in waking land
and I am


© S.Rinderle, 2013

What does she need right now?

red cloak or sweater dress whirling
barefoot laughter
a waterfall of splashing children
wide open meadow of sun and flowers
long hair run wild
hands skimming top of ripe grains

You float far away
compassionate cord
two connected dots
grows into a pot
an outflow of colorful gifts
creativity, vitality
source energy
stays small
sinks deeper
awash in calm
I’m solid and quiet
we are two equals
But what piece
best serves you?

Freedom warmth
hearty soup
glowing hearth
hugs and giggles
a toasty feather bed
safety in roots
smoldering embers
a safe fire
cinnamon and cardamom
dozing off to peaceful sleep
soul knitting and
heart stitching


it’s time for others to till the fields
until winter
falls again

© S. Rinderle, 2013
Dedicated to N.R.L.