In Plain Sight

You are beyond the gates of the Palace
playing ping pong with the Queen.
You are hiding in the clouds,
negotiating with the fickle sun.
You are standing behind every tree in Green Park,
blowing raspberries as I pass.

You conceal yourself in other people’s music,
hanging your silences between their notes.
Your bicycle bell sounds within Big Ben.
You’ve buried your heartbeat underneath my footsteps.

You are as absent as Christ
as distant as the night sky
yet as close as my own breath.

You are always here, at arm’s length,
if only I knew which way to reach for you.
Right now, as I write this line, I feel you just behind me,
your chin almost resting on my shoulder.
You are the spirit that speaks through the ouija board of this poem.

My heart swells.
In a sensual flood that washes every cell in my body,
I feel you move through me,
searching for something I have also been looking for.