Solid Ground

Relationships can so often be  
a tightrope between the trees.
Some folks' trees reach ever taller.  
others low with branches broader.
 
Between our trunks we all traverse
dancing like acrobats in rehearse.
Meet in the middle, or a little further;
conflict makes wobbles, a fall precursor.
 
To fail is to fall, often from height;
we try to balance with all our might.
With time you can build a rope bridge
and homes in the branches of your niche.
 
Then there's the bonds that are earthbound,
each step to them as firm as solid ground.
Hazel eyes that see through souls,
a heart with the heat of hot coals.
 
Their spirit burns with green fire,
matching mine of bright sapphire.
How lucky I am to have found
someone who feels like solid ground.