The Ambrosial Fragrance of the Invisible

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Distant love

can feel so
close
and close
love
can feel
so
distant
depending on what the
commute is.

I could say the same
thing about
memories

With eyes closed
but open for
Dreaming Season
I can
feel the
warm
skin
And
inhale
the
ambrosial fragrance of the
invisible 
which sways like
in the
hammock of my arms
as the choir of my heart
sings a good-night song
like Tender Shepherd
which began with the question
“Can anything harm us mommy after the
night lights are lit?”
to which mother responded 
“Nothing precious. They are the eyes
that a mother leaves behind
to guard her children.”
And then
the disciples of Neverland
took flight
to reach
whatever in life felt
scary
unreachable 
or
far
far away

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