Escalator Boots (Definition: Love)

It's light - through the window
like a stream of nothing
made something...
with brown to burnished amber
dressed in thermal
translucent stripes.

It's up - far and ever
in a letter made of music
and shameless curiosity
and free treasure
on a blind forever
or a million different shape shifters
where cloudy isn't in the way at all.

It's there - with the flowers
in the violet in shy not shrinking
in a wild  purple periwinkle
squealing burst of delicious cravings
though dooryard, still a scent like
raptured paradise.

Its both and in-between- mountain base
and tree rooted steady
in the ready for a climb
made of escalator boots and
rivers in eyes full of hikers
that look for canoes to survey the
majesty from a well of brimming wonder
into arms made of everyones ocean.