Grandmother holds me

Grandmother holds me
her bosom boulders
her chin hairs
mighty pines

even covered in snow
she blankets me with warmth
strokes my forehead
with soft wind

lets my tears fall
Into her meadowed lap
sometimes soft
sometimes sobs

watering the great
alpine garden
of this sacred land
where wisdom keepers

have made their medicine
for millennia
sitting in their grandmother’s
lap and magic

sol mates

The sun kissed you
before I could
stole your lips
from the trails they

were meant to blaze
on my skin
to follow the
freckled pathways only you

know how to navigate
constellations on collarbones
ready for a
pair of explorers to

pave a new pathway
of bliss, setting
off explosions with
every torrid touch across
my sun-kissed skin