Gazing out from porch in view, in share of single chair where she rested to his lap—his arm’s weight and gentle burden felt in the points of her hips and the lightening of his arms to hands at rest, easy and natural, in place and cover of her low lap, knees wide and cross-legged ankles, as she dream-visioned.
Beyond the lawn, over aged and weather weakened fence of wooden posts and boards, she saw where a garden would go. Then, it was tall grass and weeds, but mind made it as a plot—neat, clean, and orderly—where it grew in capture of long, full days of sun.
She saw it tilled. She saw it worked, lined rows of plants and vines that spread, their growth and splay in break of the linear and restoring wildness to her woman-made order.
She saw tied stakes and baskets overgrown in green vine and tomatoes colored—common red and heirloom lines of varied and delicious hues.
She saw rows of greens—lettuce in spring, spinach, collards; bok choi in Asian accent and enjoyed from grill and in flavored soups.
She saw bushed beans in rows and, too, their wrap and climb of garden poles. She saw mounded earth of potato rows—summer new and main-crops finished and saved in year-long store.
From garden see, eyes and minds moved nearer—to posts of porch support. In sit and focus, she saw clay pots of many sizes, painted and made personal, from which morning glories and passion flowers grew—one in forward, stepped fall in welcome of home greeting outward to the world; the other coiling in climb becoming one in bind to that which held it in supporting high.
She thought of her grandmother, and her heart gladdened in the memory. She thought to what she would say when all was made: lost way of love life restored and with, a home and peace in magic of a place.
Mind and eyes were drawn again, this time to middle-distance of trees and lawn beneath. Heart and spirit showed the vision: four children in play together—three girls, one boy, in run and race of many degrees of heights, coordination, and speed though, from all, she heard voice-sounds of mirth amongst the play; and she knew that they were hers.
It was a beautiful life-becoming.
She remained in the vision, stayed in the see, not rushing it away.
She kept in his hold, comforted in wrap and weight of his arms in sense to her hips and the rest of his hands at peace on her place.
Gently, softly, she felt his touch in effecting through her coverings and guards. Tender, delicate, slow tracings of affection that awoke a matching heat.
She sighed, keeping in both vision and the feel.
Through all the vision, all the see, he was there: holding, supporting, wrapping her in peace.
Touched, affected, she turned her face for find: mouth, lips, and tongue true-speaking what failed as words to say.
She wanted the vision. She wanted the see: the beautiful-life becoming.