for Kayleen
Sometimes after many dawns
a song returns to the heart
and brings with it a new sweetness,
as if in its absence it went to a faraway place
and bathed in turquoise and gold
and rolled in honey and then waded in petals,
as if it has been spending time
amongst ripe fields of wheat
and swimming in the perfume of love.
When a song returns like that,
it finds new ways to sing in us,
and once again our heart becomes
concert hall, resonant, spacious, ringing,
and then it becomes the song.