The day Jonathan came
we hiked to the ledge
where raven feathers whispered
close to our ears.
Luminescent wolves perched
and the forest family
caught on fire.
The heart rock
of the beloved,
placed on our path
had disappeared down
the empty river bed,
covered in winter's
dry stick bones.
. . .
Today, machete and hands
I clear tulip tree saplings,
baby fern tufts.
I uncover worn dirt
that has always been the trail.
And there,
The stone!
The beloved.
The heart,
washed and wondered
seven jump strides downstream.
It rests and leans,
blinking back
towards all things
growing and bright.