I will not be found hovering over the surface of anything,

My mind a deep ravine of mystic musings

Slow dancing to the songs

Of my own heart.

I will not be found raising my voice

Simply to be heard;

My words, often well thought out

Need only a whisper

In the ear to be felt.

I will not be found

Giving all that I have gathered

For a morsel, a crumb

A tongue tip taste of honey

Slow dripping from fingers

All too quick to retreat.

I will not be found

Gripping, yearning, longing

For that which only tells me

First chapters of half remembered stories

Written under thick blankets

Of unyielding fear.

But I am here, found

New to this experience

Of knowing the weight of my worth,

And how it does not come in exchange

For something, for someone

Unable to hold it.

I am here, found

New to me and available

For all that is to come,

And all that has readied itself

For me in return

Without the slightest hint of resistance,

Without the faintest sting of regret.