adoring

adoring the day
the light crosses your face
the piercing beautiful power of your embrace
the windswept subcurrent
loneliness which, in some cases,leaves me smiling
i celebrate the moreness of life in the chasm and threshold
i call you
echoing nothingness cherishes the morning fair
the night silent
he is my brother.

eulogy of a concept (a poem after viewing "Remains of the Day")

illusions,
the unspoken dance into a world never realized
a world of high orchestra and last moment rescues
this world
i now know, is at peace
the preamble of mercy and touch
of the soft, pure glance into the eyes of certain sustained release
places where growth is something expected
and the heroworld of swords and stones,
of camelots and quiet understanding
whispers
final glory
it died sometime ago but i never mourned it properly
no stone at the head of it final resting place
simply an invisible memorial
i stand by and smile. (this is true.)
i smile, half-relieved,
the pulse continues
i can get on with life now.
a life of surrender
knowing now that sacrifice
will lead to resurrection
and unconditional love
yes
will lead to peace

regret observed

watery silver
gleaming in the desert
like a dream
running through perilous landscape
alien to touch and taste
departing graceful arabesque
like a glass darkly
soon face to face
our hands touching
that series of conversations
swept away like the grains of captured sand
functioning in forced purpose
i see it now as a short passage into never
something so powerful and majestic
sister of silence
we knew it was over
somehow we knew
this conversation
this walk
the fork in the road
misunderstanding
a betrayal never spoken
but realized
grieved
eulogized
and returned
unopened letter discarded
yet still it glistens
every morning across the horizon
God bless the roads that seperate us
keep us
amen

threshold

deep within her soul
a longing for belonging
a start of a beginning
resplendent eyes- dark
tears
coursing
down to the fair desolation of her mouth
deeply, beyond hope
needing, beyond thought
a touch of truth
an act of solitary grace
that makes her alive
that keeps her
watching
waiting
for dawn
while the royal splendor
of love continues to echo
toward the threshold of
her true place of rest.

waking in the garden

Verdant paths of pedals bloom
The touch of flowering lovers doom
Expels the fear of living lost
Behind the fragile fragrant tossed
The touch of love torn candles flame
And resplendent willowed lane
Hath only time to tell of taste
remember loves immortal haste
To grave of hope and tomb of song
And dirge of passions winter long.