Free Verse # 260 (upon night’s altar)

Her poem a candle-flame
in the dark swaying, pleading,
for his breath to embalm the darkness
with the pure light of dawn,
folding her in him.


In the roaming breeze
she catches his scent
and blossoms
as the flower
before the dawn blooms
feeling her Beloved’s breath
in the still wind


Into the desert
of their passion
they walked,
two figures falling
off the world’s edge,
their abode a garden
in the heart of dawn.


Upon night’s altar
I lit my heart,
a candle-flame
gently sobbing
a river of longing
seeking for her arms.


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