Could lament forever on the ever
Never had
The supposed never
That ever will be
The choice then:
To become the salt of the earth from the longing
Or turn around
And choose instead
To rejoice
In the mystery
While standing unscathed
Among the flames
To become pure gold born of fire.
Golden and quivering
The beast tips its crown
Winks
I blush
As it fondles
A seed, the fruit of which
As elixir
Eases
It blooms
Red against gold
I fancy purple
Vestments of protection
As the wind its breath
Whispers
“You are set apart
Above
Like Solomon
Seeking wisdom
You must indulge
To make waves of your logic
To know”
With each quickening
I exorcize the
“Flee”
From me
I have no fear
When I am here
And isn’t God
Love
The Kingfisher perched and yar
Adjusted its sight
For flight
Under and above
Air and water
It served itself
Sacrificing
Flight and immersion
The Halcyon polished and yare
Draws and slackens
Jerks and loosens
Tugs and relaxes
Tautens and eases
The noose bound to
The immovable
