Night Lights of Nectar
Wreath of wild flowers
Before rain nectar swamps
nude lake with a balmy scent
encircled with a dark shade of forest
where we cling too tight to
a moment of beauty
hoping to rescue us of being apart;
Tell me at this moment
who’s falling into its primal reflection?
I hear a loom whose call reverses
a present feeling into a haunted past.
Are you lost in silence
that burns cheeks
with the same fervor
of never told tales?
Dare and tell;
I know you can catch long haired pines in sunset flames
turning them from green to red
to burn in glossy thoughts
as they are lost codes of some secret agent
who hides never healed scars
grown into plumbed size dark bruises
over the spreadsheets
of an infinite space
crossing into the magic dance of a moonlight.
One more time, let me chart
how close and apart are
Venus and Mars
in their diverged Summer orbits parse?
Does it really matter
who walked first away from dreams?
Tonight the Full moon calls off
the forceful distance
while we chew night to its
whippoorwill calls stalled
by the wolfs’ pack haul,
and all sounds are synchronized with light flashes
of glittering fireflies.
Remember, wisdom grows with every
finest grain of Earth’s salt
and Her tacit, pulsed thump.
Ages are written in circled eyes
of green tree trunks cuts
and marsh saturated soil
where we leave deep footprints
stamped in gray worries;
you are so deeply carved in my heart–
an alive image
of a rare sun beam crossing the road,
moving shadows of Adam’s fall away
as we pass the crossings in love and free.
The round stone awaits;
it bids all curved solid odds
crafted in an inanimate nature
of your distant smile
carried away with ferry horns
over great waters of our distrust.