Daily Archives: July 13, 2017

THE NIGHT’S PURSE

The last of a songbird’s notes have fallen into the night’s purse,
and you have known my dances are behind shadows where some of
me has hidden to heal or die.

It seems there are no truths but only dirt and tears and at last
the only remaining mouth that spills songs into hearts
and tender arms is yours my love.

Where we exist there are no stationary objects but a wide orbit
that entertains the unknowable; to feel the butterfly awaken
is an infinite joy stooped upon the vast spirals of our Cathedral.

This love, our love, is universal and eternal.

Forever yours!

:: 07-12-2017 ::


WELCOME MY GHOSTS

THAT I have tried and succeeded is only in great measure

That you have been there with all my fears and displeasure.

Holding my cramped heart and swollen hands is how you have

Saved both my mind and spirit – the soul; still intact down

By the emptying rivers that lead to unexpected consequences.

And to weep while watching the death of a perfect day and to

Realize that birth was only half that day ago is sobering:

We watch each other’s eyes while laying on our sides and

Breathing in cadence I tell you that I am a fortunate peasant

And you the Queen who has welcomed by Ghosts.

:: 07-12-2017 ::