Grace Without Possession

She walked beside me, hair caught by wind,
Eyes quiet as the moon in retreat.
We saw a peacock near the lotus pond—
Not flaunting, just being complete.

Its feathers shimmered with no request,
Not asking to be more than light.
We stood in silence, both aware—
That beauty does not beg for sight.

I reached for her hand, not to claim,
But to share this breath, this hue.
What is lovely is not owned—
It is honored in what we do.

So I kissed her, not to keep—
But to say, I see you too.

© Susie Stiles-Wolf