FOR ONE

Washes me smooth as polished stone -

And then turns me from a cold,

Hard, polished stone

Into clay so fine, so moldable

That once again, I am transformed.

From clay so fine

I am transformed into the warmest wood –

So green and bendable

That my leafy shape matches thine

In every branch and curve,

But then, again, I change.

I change from warmest wood

Into bones and flesh, sinew and heart –

I am a woman now with

The warmth of the wood,

The softness of the clay,

And the strength of the stone.

And in my heart-of-hearts I feel thee,

Every sigh, and tender touch –

Every elation, every freedom is

Amplified a thousand-fold

In the knowledge that though we be apart,

We are one.

©Marina Phillips

4 April - 2010