I like to look at my map of the world and visualize the continents moving back together:
Puzzle pieces whose edges have been worn by time
I see how well they still fit, nook to cranny
Do you remember when you were all one? I ask the colorful curves of our earth
I wonder if the eastern shores of South America ache for the familiar embrace of the west African coast
Or if Cape Horn longs to kiss Antarctica on the lips just one more time
Traveling by map, I island-hop
I stop for a shag on the Shag Rocks and eat a sandwich on the South Sandwich Islands, both of which are east of Argentina and north of Antarctica.
Islands are the delicious crumbs of earth’s picnic
When I observe others struggling because they feel separate from All That Is,
I try to piece us back together
Though the salt water between us is blinding
I relax my gaze and see
That you fit perfectly with me
How we ever parted in the first place
Is the real puzzle
Sage Burner Poetry 