Mountain Creature, Man: One Year Ago Today by Rachel Hsu

I walk to you to remind my feet
the feeling of wandering without getting lost.
The echo of aimless rings like dreams, or so I’m learning;
we used to call it inevitable danger.

One year ago today, I couldn’t perceive this kind of love. 
The year before that, I was dying to prove myself.
The year before, I insisted I knew something.
In a way, I did—not trust or path or people 
(things I feel for in the dark now)—but I knew
the inkling of body. One could call that potential
for story from the start.

I march your hills with light in a sack and pretend
my footsteps water your eternity. One year ago today,
I could not name the bridges on your back, 
nor could I tell you why 
tiny things scatter the second they notice you looking.
I came to you for peace of mind in tiny bodies;
these are the only times I pretend you can hear me.

One year ago today, we did not know each other 
the way we do now. We knew nothing of wander, explore, acquaint
because to meander was to begin confirming,
and confirmation comes from making mistakes.
People fear drifting like it’s sinking,
like it’s footsteps with footprints,
though that’s natural. 
People are unforgiving, is what I mean.

But lately, I’ve been thinking, I can shift in the dark 
without fear sometimes.
At some point, maybe, I learned, if I can feel something,
then I have hands. Trusting that 
(and the one-way ticket footsteps)
is the kind of love I’m figuring out. 
I’m figuring out that walking means my body can go;
I can tag along if I know how to follow it.

I walk to you the way I walk to my body when I want to go places.
One year ago today, I would have told you I knew what that meant.
I didn’t.

What I know is I walk to you now. 
What I know is you’re a body of your own.
What I know is how to wander to you when my body says it needs a friend.
You’re the mountain, you’re forever, 
body-in-the-dark. You’re destination
and pathway at once, like the body and all 
in and about it—here the whole time, and 
all I had to do 
was find you.