dark things by J Leanne Padgett

I do not love you as if you were a daisy chain
or butterflies fluttering at my side.
I love you as certain dark things ar loved,
from the dank cellar of my soul
somewhere between shadow and light.

I love you as the beating rain
that smothers the sun
to feed the Douglas fir and water the elk,
and thanks to your love, damply within my body
your inspiration grows and survives
almost unseen.

I love you as delicate silk cherry blossums
that spiral to the concrete sidewalk
crumpled gossamer beneath each ponderous step.

I love you as the bumblebee
I keep in cupped palm,
dancing in dark confines,
its stinger hot with panic,
grazes my skin in searing want for freedom.

I love you as I love nothing and everything,
I love you simply and with difficulty,
I love you with fear and with abandon.

I love you as sacred places are loved:
the sand, the earth, the wind, and the cedar,
a love that has always been and will always be.

J Leanne Padgett
(written for Richard Lett and read at his birthday roast. It is also published in Leanne's book "ScrapPapers and SkyScrapers")