a poem

The leaves outside the window moving
in sync to the pattern on the bedroom wall,
inside matching outside, comforting;
creating a space to be inside
outside inside,
inside a vast wasteland of space
outside that which is known inside,
comforting;
the pattern on the bedroom wall imprinting
the leaves on the tree outside the window,
outside matching inside, still comforting;
the pain, overflowing into the interstices
of inside and outside, drawing them together,
All becoming One inside the inside,
comforting.



by Elizabeth M. Cheatham