a love poem
slept badly.
worked all morning.
i love the view from your window:
jewels scattered in the night.
i want to see the view from your heart.
magic connections will abound.
high force set in motion.
in spite of what you think.
high force set in motion,
connecting above and below.
above in the unseen.
below in the unknown.
i drift in and out of your essence.
reading the runes of your soul.
different inside from outside.
learning a new language
of your faraway breathing.
destiny changes with those secret lines
running through all the webs
far beyond the sphere of time.
there the ones who see beyond
our realm see when the true
genesis of touch bears
astounding fruit.
o how to be ready.
when the dove hovers over
unwilling mind
must you yield up the millennial
ideas of sacrifice.
they know there’s no
sacrifice where there’s love.
just a giving and an altar-offering
without a name, without
measure. who can measure
the view from your heart?
i sit at its window
and the enigma
of the wild twilight city
makes sense to me
as the movement of the wind
does over the face of the sea.
watch the links multiply,
till a flower is formed.
can you birth a flower?
can you give birth
to the new self that’s forming
from the enigma,
a clear form mysterious
to behold, beautiful
as the dawn
over those blue mountains?
what is magic?
touching, and giving birth to worlds.
dreaming, and for the real to be in doubt.
loving, and being calm,
so that all becomes clear
like an angel’s evanescent form.
slept badly.
worked all morning.
all i have is a certain gaze of yours.
and the way when leaving
you take all of you with you.
and me at the window,
dreaming.
i want to see the view
from your heart.