To find it, I ask where it is

It's in my breath.
I see it in the joyful line between my eye
and that tiny blue-tit feeding her tiny chick.
It's in the sky. I can always call it from the sky.

My lover brings it up close, face to shining face,
and twinkles it into my eyes, warmth
chuckling around each rolling joke.
He pulls my now from frown to smiles.

I have it in the knowledge of who I am,
sometimes small, sometimes strong.
The evening blackbird drops it into my ears.
Freesias dust it dancing through my nose.

Beech trees hand it back to me, their strong arms
bare in winter, summer leaves a baffling glory -
so many acres of fine green, drinking light.
That familiar forest avenue holds it for me.

It glows its way into me from the nectarine lines
of that sunset, the one where I learned again to love
what I have, instead of yearning for all that I have not.

It is in the pleasure of connection that all these things bring.
My me. My spirituality. The point of being. Belonging.

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