I didn’t know I was asleep,
walking through the years of my own life until
time stopped its marching noise and
still sand vibrated and
leaves laughed.
Then you and you and you
came into view. Materialized.
All of you shocked my sensibilities awake
like being hit in the forehead by an angel.
Just a gentle wham by wings of love.
How could I not notice my own drowsiness?
I didn’t know I was alive,
snoring through the drama of my own past
like a dissatisfied member of the audience,
a bored consumer of space and air, until
the sun roared
and moon glowed orange against a frame
of mountains.
You took it in and gave it all to me.
A gift from one shimmering body to another,
then another, then another–as if
breath itself kept us all breathing.