every time i fall

a small glass heart,
the oakland hills,
a candle burning in bright day.
music i can lean on.
women’s voices, arms that catch me
every time i fall.
i am falling the way sunlight
enters a room through a warm closed window
and unfurls along the floor.
i fall and surface and fall again
like a leaf in a whirlpool.
i fall and fall.
your voice on the altar,
one white lily among the gold.
i fall until i am standing,
and it no longer hurts.

from An Edge Made for Embracing