Free Verse # 221 (writing you; writing me — the ineffable source)

Writing
I feel your hand in mine,
Then the poem completes itself
As in me you become
The ineffable silence,
The very breath of life.

~

In this love for you
What of me remained?
Nothing but a poem
Unfolding in your palms,
Words weaved with light.

~

Wrought by starlight
your poem fell
like a pair of eyelids
over my aching eyes,
blinding me to all
save for your light.

~

I could forget your face if I entrust it to a poem; so I rather forget the poem, leave it unwritten, and within me keep your face, forevermore, unto my last breath, alive and growing, shining like a fountain of endless grace.

~

The eyes have a language words cannot touch.

~

Clouds ~ these eternal wanderers roaming through the desert sky.

~

Strewn amid my poems
rosemary and basil leaves
grown in the garden of her hair

~

Lavender seeds and jasmine flowers,
basil leaves and rosemary needles,
stars and dewdrops,
wine and candle-flames –
all amid the folds of her dark hair.

2 thoughts on “Free Verse # 221 (writing you; writing me — the ineffable source)

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