Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Morning

The first conscious breath
I catch up slowly to the light
Whirring that lulls me
And dulls the worry
That something isn't right
From the night before

Unable to move
I wait

...

Ah

...

This is that thought for which I wait
The lines of sun grace my shoulder like her fingers
As I revel
That words are not our fate

And pain is so weak


I rise to my feet
Head to the door
It's we that are strong
It's her I adore

Her eyes are the ocean
Her mind is a pool
Her heart is a thicket
Protecting a jewel

Intricate is her existence
Simple is mine
A lock and a key
The word to my rhyme

I find her in a plight
She lurches to speak
Yearning for calm
A hush that she seeks

Her beauty abounds
And holding to faith
I pledge her these words

"Our warmth is still safe"


We clasp our hands
With want and affection
In unspoken assurance
We gaze ahead
And live to comfort again