To M.

I was unsure about you
at first,
as now you know
change is not a thing
I cope with well.

I was just getting used
to sitting in
the big rocking chair
down the hall
only to have to switch
unwillingly,
to a seat of
unfamiliar wood with a
green pillow at my back.

But you were gentle,
you were patient,
and you weren't afraid
to call me out.

Somehow you got in
very quickly, very well.
Something in the way
you listened
spoke much louder
than your words.


I'm sure you've noticed,
my reflex to stifle
and to "box",
to minimize and to push away,
is still very much in conflict
with my urge to breakdown,
be messy, let go.

Our journey has only recently
involved some movement
instead of standing in one place
trying to figure out my map.
Yet in the face of being stranded
that small push forward
feels like miles gained.

I already sense
a small piece
of that part of me,
meant to change with
each new guiding spirit,
taking on the shape of
your wise soul.

Now I am faced,
yet again,
with a change
I do not welcome.

However, this time
I'm unsure, not of you,
but of what to do now
that it's your chair of wood
and green pillow
that I'll miss.