Of reading that one word
An entire mountain of miasma is swept aside
And how, the Buddhist might ask
Could you invest such trust in another’s
Simple expression
Easy becomes love
When the merest hint
Of the gift of affection is offered
Said the poet, the writer, the flaneur of dreams
I ask that you don't give up
For I have given up
Given up way too often
Given up way too soon
In that moment
Imagining the one word spoken
The aeroplane of joy is already boarded
And how, the analyst might ask
Could you hold such faith in one others
Sonic explorations
Vibrations of love
Soothe and excite our minds
As potent as the gift of youth's elixir
Said the poet, the writer, the flaneur of dreams
Four crows cling to a sapling
Two flocks fly above
Above of who knows where
Above of who knows why
 |
| Available on Kindle |