Night Hike

Fire in the forest! Burn in blue crosses.

Burn, burn, flame up, sparkle in trees of light.

 - Pablo Neruda

I'm not thinking anymore about calling you, 

only toying with the necessity

of painting my toes before sleep. 

*

Through the window, a nameless bush

blooms colored berries--its branches 

a zodiac of feeling. My daughter says

*

it's sky I notice, not people. Cerulean shades, 

flash of feathers, a cloudy symphony

unraveling across untamed air. 

*

It's true. I can sit in a cafe for hours

and translate glass without listening in 

on a single conversation. How strange then

*

that your eyes across a crowded room 

are the blue I've memorized--

that your voice's flame 

*

marks crosses on all the tree trunks

to lead me out of unmapped dreams.