Dear Sister, Friend,

    Today I thought of you.

I gaze over the budding field

    beyond my yard's edge,

and stretching back over the grass,

    recall your scent.

Before me is a flowering tree,

    pure in its blossoming,

and beyond my vision your face rises;

    your name follows.

As you stand — gracious —

    in my imagination,

the hearty soil grows richer underneath

    and the colorful birdsongs multiply.

Behind, in the house, the wide boards of soft wood floors

    bend gently below your feet;

but it is my chest

    that aches and creaks.

Have you heard my home shift

    from brick house to my heart?

And there is room,

    new,

        for another.

So tomorrow I shall present open palms,

    and ask for you

in entirety.

For as the robin bares its breast to ascend

    and bluejay shocks earthly neighbor with heavenly hue,

so I hear from my bones drumming

    for self-sacrifice that fills the womb,

        and transforms full woman

            into mother.