Free Verse # 408 (this music I heard)

My shadow softened
into her light,
a rose finally knowing
what it is to blossom.

~

She is not a body
but a constellation of stars
and each night, eyes closed,
with my breath I trace her,
trace her in my heart.

~

In my imagination
I work her body
the way the bee patiently builds
the intimate chambers of her honeycomb
using the fiery nectar of the flowers.

~

This music I heard
when I touched your heart
I do not want it to end

~

She is beautiful
the way dawn
caressing a rose
smiles in his white heart

~

In her touch
I want to burn and keep burning
until I am no more
than ash in the wind

~

Dans mon imagination
je travaille son corps
comme l’abeille patiemment
façonne les chambres de sa maison
avec le feu brulant des fleurs

~

In every poem I read
I search for the whiff
of her fragrance,
the secret intuition that led
the poet’s pure vision,
the hidden hand that guided
the fervent spill of his heart.

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