I want to be plain,
to be still.
I want the rain to be rain,
light to be light.
I want no sound from the wood,
no echoes ringing from the wall.
Be simple, be pure, without ribbons.
I want to be plain.
To be water,
to see only footprints in the sand,
to listen to a lake’s heartache.
I want to be plain,
without adornment.
To say only what needs to be said,
no shadows,
only things in themselves,
and then go on.
I want to look at the past
and leave trouble there.
Look to the future,
and see only the edge of dawn,
where the cliff ends,
where nothing falls or shatters.
Just the simple things.
Look at me, beloved,
and see only my eyes.
Forget the trails and valleys
of my face,
the little frown in my mouth,
the gray dust in my hair
from old ceilings.
See me as I once was,
an open heart to the sky.
I love you that way.
I see only the first time
you opened your door,
a woman who was beginning.
Who had no coat.
Whose eyes were clear as a lake.
Whose voice carried the meaning
of its own sweetness.
I want to be plain.
I want to know you again.
I want you to enter
the door of my life,
like spring following winter.