From Behind the Wall

I am behind the wall in the heart of that new cradle I am behind the wall on the bench in that meadow in the play of the wind’s fingers with the waves of playful hair in the kisses of light on wet shins. I am behind the wall in the wheels in the rings in the brightness of that new crystal in the earrings. I am behind the wall in the lines carved on the bark of the tree on stone on the veil of steam on the thin windowpane. I am behind the wall in the dance of that breath in the body of the reed in red blue yellow. I am behind the wall. From the brooks beside me I take water and I sift the pieces of broken ladders. Step upon step I build from both sides I grow tall I grow tall higher than the wall, up to your lips my smile up to me ...