Is the verse that no words gave birth to, lines that pass from eye to bluest eye, stanzas that are felt in every tremble, pauses that breathe as deep as we do, hoping against all that there will be no crying end to this ecstatic beginning--
Truth and ecstasy versus the inevitable fall from grace are the flesh of these words.
My heart stumbles on its own beat, but it will beat ever onward, with or without the light that made it stop for that infinite second where everything it ever was was reborn, the universal chaos finally given order...
Line by line--
like these words
but with no end in sight
What waits in the dark is another story.
A feeling as grand as creation itself lies still in the palms of my mortal hands.
(dust, but dust with meaning, as are the hands of my love)
Tears as hot as the tears of a burning heaven, falling toward the fire that beckons them through the night. I recognize at once what it is that makes me live and die and live again, moment to aching, elated, anticipated moment...
A song from the darkness,
eyes lit like two suns,
gleaming like twin moons
a perfect world of two.
The greatest love poem ever written,
and no one can know the hour of the end.
Above: Comet McNaught falling toward the horizon, like a tear of heaven, against the blazing auroral sky.
Below: A passing of the Moon against the background of the Andromeda galaxy. Heavenly bodies are beautiful to behold, are they not?
This is my 100th post. That's a lot of bad poems! I figured it would call for something extra cool, so I saved this poem for it. It takes some perspicacity to name a poem what I named this one. But if anyone can do it, I can. Hubris is my middle name.
I have to thank all of you for your support, respect, honor, comments both funny and insightful, and just your presence.
May you all get what you like and what you love this holiday season, no matter what that may be.
Peace and love.