The Brush of Your Hand…

The brush of your hand across my shoulder
Sends fire into my cheeks, burning away
My confidence, waning as the sun over the horizon.
I would chase you until morning
Dazzled as the night brightens your strawberry hair
Undone by the moonlight framing hazel eyes that
Always smile against a masterpiece rendered
In countenance, sublime in its glowing reflection.

Let my love rest beside your form, holding
Tightly your features till dawn snatches
You from my grasp, and memory dreams
Along the snarling contours of day.
I await the night and the fragrance preceding your touch.

I Enter the Forest at Night

I enter the forest at night
Search for a glade and rest
My tools I lay on the ground
Worlds apart, alive with sound

Hours I pass listening to songs
Played out infinitely
My eyes adjust to the dark
Set my sight, enlist my mark

Barrel and scope point assurance
Ranging through the moonlight
My target comes into view
Minutes down, seconds ensue

Accommodation of fresh eyes
Clearly see through the night
I set my finger in place
Press down, capture time and space

One Misstep

One misstep and the foundation crumbles
Hurtles particles across the open space
People, too, spiral among debris
Settle bruised and battered upon
Tightly woven webs stuck in place

Caught in the throes of life gone astray
Results of testing temptation’s vapor lock
Decisions approach like meteors broken apart
Avoid one, block another, try to hitch a ride
Once it strikes, it’s too late to take stock

I Tried in That Moment

I tried in that moment to
Energize my weariness.

He told me I am empty.
I replied, “To my core.”

He mentioned neutrinos.
Particles so tiny they must be imagined.

“I’m imagining nothing,” I mentioned,
My casual tone belying my formal attire.

(Did I mention I was tired?)

He knew the math got lost
In this circuitous mind I carry.

I looked blankly as his lips dried.
They moved so quickly in the chorus of conversation.

He tried to illustrate the atom
By conducting his arm out across the city.

“They pass right through you,” he smiled
Triumphantly at this revelation.

I stood holding my caviar hor d’oevres and
Surreptitiously set the cracker on a stone railing.

Urgent tugs across my shoulder and
Elbow followed smiles and pulled me along in his draft.

Politely (perhaps), I stopped short within our space.
“I am a positron and you an electron,” I released my grim assessment.

He looked into my eyes as his smile waned, but not completely.
And nodded in recognition, understanding me for the first time.

As he moved away, I stood among the oeuvre of colors
Watched the elegant scene as one atom passed another.

Each smiled and frowned in their turn, yet interceded
This emptiness I am and with acuity I was filled.

Love is Wonder

Love is wonder
Intrinsic and powerful
Mysterious in its most
Potent moments
The light inside the shade
I am under

Love hides in secret
Likes seeds planted
In the desert, waiting
For drought’s end
Rain’s nourishing shower
Brings an infinite, colorful palette

Love never leaves us
Lying in our graves
Content for dust to settle
And dim the glory of our lives
Lived under the shade
Before the light luminous

Love lives in thunder
And the cricket’s chirp
Amidst the patter of soft rain
Soaking through soil to thirsty roots
While clouds part like theater curtains
Unveiling the scope of the Master’s love
His wonder

Now on Amazon.com!

“To Scratch the Surface of Beauty” is now available throughout North America and Europe on Amazon.com!