Eternal Energy

I feel your energy
before you touch me;
the current surges
under my skin.

Tai chi master teaches
me to move paper
without a graze;
feel the waves in the
air and push them
forward; bend the sheet
hanging over my
door, fold it in half.

I took you to the
forest once, showed
you how to hug a tree
without scratching skin
against bark. It will
hug you back—
electricity vibrating
from its trunk,
embracing you — us.

That’s how you’ll
know death is never
the end; permanent is
a relative term. We
lie our heads by
tombstones, let the
blades of grass sprout,
tickle our fingertips—
multiple kisses from
beyond the grave.

Originally published May 22, 2016.