she speaks

 ​write me into being
so you can see me
 
I lie behind the ferns
and velvet moss slope 
 
at first a scent of lilac
damp soil and wet leaves
 
threads the spider weaves
wrap themselves like grandma’s hands
upon your face
 
bat wing edges 
brush your hair
 
the ground beneath you shifts
as the tree roots whisper 
an invitation 
 
daughter, 
float here among 
the slick black rock

you accept the invitation

and float 
 
as  the whale falls back
after her majestic breach
your body succumbs to
weighted blankets
of ocean tides 
 
write me into being 
so you can see me
 
Then I shall go
for I am not of words
 
I am the mystery 
I am the infinite
I am You