Dawn, Forced Into The Shaped Of Words

strong and heartening,
an expansive rinsing of the soul
that hangs delicately like a single,
thoughtful teardrop

so full
with meaning
and wonder

we are hungry flowers,
absorbing protective energy
as entropy lengthens our shadows,
stalking the hot star cauldron above,
a constant quiet companion
gifting us with the terrifying complexity
of sentience

that ache of love and longing,
that kaleidoscopic fever dream
where we wander long halls filled with resplendent paintings,
where ancient oak tables simmer in sturdiness,
haunting handwritten poems carved into expressive planks,
a high cliff dive into lives bled out into history,
a time when candlelight and quill
softly etched modest sound and scent
into the mystifying corners of midnight

this heart thunderously beats
as galaxies churn and collide

and I am starving to touch your body,
to elucidate your soul with awakening,
a storm of passion delineating the wistful outline of Truth,
meandering lines emblazoned upon ancient scrolls,
moments captured inside of moments,
rainbows of delightful intention destined to deteriorate into oblivion,
memories crackling brightly like a masterpiece of literature
torn out and piled up and engulfed in flames

love is what remains
when all the forests of the world
are turned to soil-enriching black carbon

may we rise like tender green sprouts
from the fields of black,
spurred on from soft rain and fierce photons

kissing and making love
amongst the inevitable explosion of fresh new life
which rises so joyfully from the soil
that we almost forget how the acorn of existence
derives its magnificent beauty from the sorrow of loss

my darling,
even the most unfathomable galaxies
eventually have an ending

so let me caress the delicate lines
of your fingers

and tell me
that there are dreams
somewhere in your heart
that make you want to paint the sky

3 thoughts on “Dawn, Forced Into The Shaped Of Words

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