Longing I walk, the heavy trod of years and flesh and pumping blood, toward the act of dawn, Door swings wide, open, hinged on unspoken sorrow. Longing for birdsong and dew, for sun-spray and breeze, for life. Not to possess, but to become, To stretch wide, beyond frail mortal encumbrances And breathe- breath of salt air and mountain, of desert and plain. Longing In that early waking hour, when dawn whispers across wide horizons, a remembering stirs, And I yearn to cast off the petty trappings of self, to shine. It wakes me in the night and leaves me sweating and restless, hungry for a lover's warm caress. Longing The dawn bends her noble head, tenderly kissing mountain, streetlight, chimney, treetop. A jealous ache, a frantic wish to merge. And then I chuckle. When smallness believed the world was flat, it danced in spherical splendor across a wide cosmos. When sun spun round the earth in heavy books, the universe staid it's course. When I stare out with unlooking eyes and lo...