She

She, she is the forest and I, I am a word in her mind She, does what she can for us while I, I wait for a sign We change into each other We change into ourselves and she, waits for the chorus of herself Chorus Arm in arm and hand in hand First we fall and then we stand Once, she was a songbird Now, she is the sky up above Soon, she will be what’s heard When, we become love She takes what we would not know Then she makes it alive and then she, waits for the Word to arrive Chorus I, I am an illusion I, am what is real I, carry confusion I, make an appeal She holds herself for ransom She holds me to the flame and I suffer contusions to my brain  Peter White © December 19, 2008