Come Inside

 

They called me by name

First the grey stone

lying face down by the sea

then the sage bush

whistling in the wind

then the turtle

neck thrust upwards toward the sky.

“Come, come inside,”

hushed the tiny yellow buds,

on tippy-toe high in the dunes.

Then the mussels in their shells

then the wild grass

then the driftwood

and the sunken crabs.

“Inside, inside, inside …”

said the wave.

Where we reside

You reside.

Come out of the darkening fog.

Why stand so grim so still?

We have made you a place

where only hearts listen

and no one speaks.

We can hold you for an eternity.

“Come inside, inside, inside,”

echoed

the gathering crowd of clouds.

. . . in to the labyrinth of light.

Here, no one is missing.