So you want to know
what your closed eyes are missing?
Take my hand and I shall show you.
I’ll take you down to the stream
and let you dip your fingers in the cool water,
let you feel how the rocks break and curl the flow
and how the small fish
shy from your wake.
I’ll take you up hills and obscure paths,
hold your arms out wide
so you can be swept away by the wind
to fall easily among the long grasses and fallen catkins
that cheekily kiss your skin.
I’ll take you to forests where the rain has just eased
and the scent of wet earth and crisp leaves
rises to meet you with every stride,
while the birds flit overhead deep in song
and squirrels scamper up trees,
only to chitter angrily when you stray too close.
And after all that,
I’ll draw your hands to my face as I smile,
so you can feel each muscle lift, each crease of my eyes deepen
and feel the heat rise to my cheeks
as you finally blink awake
and look at me fully, gaze locked with mine.