Dusk
Clear was your touch
as twilight breathed into day's exhale,
and velvet moonlight sighed.
We returned to each other
in these grassy lavender spaces,
where the voids of our secret middles
gasped, then met
in silence.
Our silhouetted mountains
protected us, transformed us --
we were small and diminutive compared to their size.
We saw only whispers of colors;
we heard only whooshing once more.
And though our riverbed dreams flashed uncertain,
and though our souls cleave us still,
we lost,
then found each other,
as we loved --
fully and finally,
and finally again.
Tidepool
My anenome essence
blossoms like the lotus flower,
clarinet falsettos weeping in the afternoon.
This ebbing home,
my seashell heart,
a prayered and lovely secret mollusk,
curved and tender,
pure.
Bowls of sparkling seaweed brine,
Shakti's mighty ocean,
pool and curl my wetland home,
my flowing algae shore.
To you, although,
I am a rock's
stubborned old
barnacle lone,
spitting your deafened eye
with watersalt.
So have then my shell --
my hollow, brittle shell,
but that, to you, is all.
And thus, and thus,
I shall remain
with the rhythmed, lilting, crying tides --
my mournful, breaking Sound,
forever mine.
