And so, in sublime stillness, I learn to curb my longing for you,
to plough it into blossom, edge of cloud, shimmering violet moon,
whose surface haunts, whose ardent echoes summon love's past.
Instead, I turn inward and walk a vast plain, an arid, empty land,
where seeds lie dormant, awaiting another Spring, another rainfall
to moisten silent Earth. I awaken to your breath, close and warm.
You took your sweet time throwing shadows across my dreams,
yet, tonight, I sense you mean no harm. You whisper something.
Words filter down, reach for me, on this island of suspended light.
I turn away and walk a vast night. Time stretches, luminous.
Others join me. We winnow the dawning mists. Ever so gently,
dewdrops collect, weigh bough and leaf, dip toward morning.
YOU ARE READING
Out of this Earth
PoetryMusings on the luminous sometimes whimsical world of human love: Bring your heart to the Garden for a feast of Earthly delights but come prepared for unexpected twists and dark turns along the way.
