| Poetica Lynx-eared curiosity, licks at the Sun, Nuzzling in the wild silk horizon, Pulled to the oasis of a hypnotising lap. Come tell me Grain, tell me of Wind�s form, Of the darting black-Births that dance. Let us digest and drink the gathered breaths, I see Love in a storm�s eye, Seeking repose in netherworlds, Pulling Life to my folded side, To this deserted cove. The wind offers Suns, Moons And wanton Earth, beloved celeste, Honouring shores with blessings, Befriending the fledgling eye creatures. Black-fire, injured soldier, My breast opens for your comfort, Laying down my all day, bitten-alive pen As demons play in half-eaten dawn clouds, The Eastern wind has my study, With gusts of calligraphic Poetica, Inked in the pain of empath skies, Through sun-divined blushed lips, Rain reaching. shalome � 2004 |