Gardener of Joy

I wake at dawn
and find you
stretching
ahead of me,
the honeycombs
of a day
flowing
with golden light,
each cell
a white abyss
pouring out joy
and calling me out,
into you,
calling me
to ready my body
and come out
and till your fields,
join your golden dance
and plant my seeds
inside of you,
in each nook and corner,
each stretch
of a verdant sky,
and become
with you, through you
the gardener of joy,
and call my labor
poetry.

Free Verse # 349 (poetry from her breasts I imbibed)

Tonight
the winds come,
against my mouth laying
the shiver of your name,
a well of stars
gushing,
its rivers my veins.

~

Poetry
from her breasts
I imbibed
and under my skin
the white rivers
coursed
beyond time and memory.

~

When a little coffee
on the book spills
and amid the pages blooms,
a brown flower
harvesting a moment,
a transient breath
become a memory.

~

By the timeless shore I wait
for the ghost of your ship
on the far horizon,
for the poem
that is my birthright
to come tangled in your hair,
breathing in your skin.

~

All the ripples
in my heart,
when you touch me
I swell
larger than life.

~

Burning past the ache
of a thousand hot knives
dancing in my veins,
your tears, o poetry,
rounding up the wells
deep in my heart.

~

Everywhere I look
humans aching
for a drop of belonging

~

I touched her simply
like the butterfly strokes
the tender flower,
like the silence whispers
dawn…

~

With poetry for eyes
he looked at her,
and like a verse of stars
she unfurled herself
in the waters of his heart.

~

On the table of the night
a candle gently sobs,
with each sigh drawing
your face in tender light.

Letter, February 21, 2016

You are not a person; you are the place I can never leave. Loving you is awakening in myself your eternal presence, and realizing how, from birth to death, I am submerged inside of you. I feel you pulse in me as though you were the root nurturing my soul, wedding me into a poem of belonging celebrating you as the effervescence of all there is. Seeking you is but a pigment of the imagination, an illusion of the soul, for you are here, now, always and forever, this lived moment, this translucent veil through which I see and am seen, this dynamic, invisible medium eternally at work as it shapes and reshapes life in the bosom of existence. Now the wave breaks, and its froth scatters on the shore of silence. Now your breath becomes ink and blood and fire, and my veins the flower blooming on your skin.