first contact — Clelia Vahni Lewis

The eyes open to green and blue, trees and sky

outside my window, the sun barely up, slipping golden

silk across shadows; first contact—again

The visible body and the invisible body entwine

the space between them woven through with

a continuous thread of longing

I'm seeking the gentle center of being

there's a fire, I know, but I am made

for melting, I'm just afraid—again

That merciful flame in the heart where

endings and beginnings meet, where grief

and joy come together in graceful minuet

I begin again the tasks of the day, listening

for the silent music of that dance