ferns

in the beginning was joy

joy opens
your hands
each morning

and at noon
when you find your arms
rising

as if the sun-sprinkled dust carried them
upward

what is it
that lifts your palms
like pollen
forcing your petals apart

what is this
joy

this
never-ending
beginning

hey, bunny

more ancient than air

come out, you say
into this element

love has a heaviness
to rest your head upon

come out, you say
love has a shape
to hold us

when we slip like shadows
into the night
stepping into
the bare current

come out, you say
there is no breaking

in this element
more ancient
than air