Monday, January 28, 2013

Not a goodbye yet

Blow away you say?

Blow away all preciousness

Blow away everything

that truly matters to this heart?

Poked, probed, pricked, pinned

Broken, tattered, worn thin,

Whatever its state or shape,

It is an object of my love.

How can I wish away

the fire to my cold,

the rain to my drought

the rhythm to my heart?

The waiting never ceased

The wanting never ceased

I may have turned my face away

But I never stopped loving

Invitation for destruction

(A Bill Jones painting from

Yes, love

rain again, flood again

even nature isn't cruel this often.

Why you? Why me?

I've held in my palms

long lonely nights

fingertips shriveled

with wiping tears.

I've held in my palms

a hope that wouldn't die

a hope that bloomed

even in hatred's Sahara.

Yes, rain again cruel one

One drop, a million drops, 

until this deluge

destroys me once more.