Tendrils

Mississippi kudzu 
Wrapping around
Everything in its path,
Sucking the life out of 
Other vegetation,
Weaving and sculpting,
Parasitic, plundering or prolific?
The Vine that ate the South.

Tendrils sprouting out of
My fingers floating out to
Others, to bees, flowers,  
Wind and water.
Gathering together and helping
Me feel whole, alive.

Tendrils of hair flowing
Down the soft face of a
Young woman, curling
Slightly, winding sensually
Around her face and neck,
Seductive and willing.

Tendrils like ivy swirling
All around and attaching to
Wood, leaves, vines,
Climbing upwards and over
The wall around our hearts.

Tendrils between you and me
Sometimes swaying in the breeze,
Pulling us close and 
At times releasing and letting go.
Sometimes, winding around
So tightly we cannot breathe.

Tendrils magically spiraling and 
Stretching between the gaps,
Weaving throughout supportive structures,
Twining around and around,
Sending out runners, an endless
Path, facing the sun,
A labyrinth of green.

Tendrils threading through
The needle of Spirit, breath
And life, bringing together
Disparate parts, found by touch,
Red, plump grapes becoming
Wine, quenching the thirst.

Tendrils of Spirit within, between,
Around, underneath, and through,
Invading yet glowing, meaning
No harm but anchoring the soul,
Connecting one to another.

Without tendrils, we vanish,
Without tendrils, we perish,
Staying connected allows
Life, Hope, and Love
To flourish beautifully 
Even between unusual neighbors,
Friends and foes.