You held my hand
Beneath such light
An orange blossom
Streetlight night.
My body small
Snow encumbered
The people tired
Somehow sombered
I felt a joy
So quiet and true
As hand and eye
Held warm hue
It was all so strange
And beautiful
My first memory
Of the world.
We are
Consumed by the wind,
As the autumn leaves
That leap from the hillsides.
So we write,
With our darkest ink,
Passages in the sky…
Letting our afterthoughts
Mingle in the gardens
Of heaven
Like careless birds
In early spring.
…testing the emptiness
Of existence,
We listen through the silence
For Grace.
And she says,
“Wake up…”
With the tap of morning dew
Upon my ear.
My love for you
Is a ray of light,
Cantering through
Warm passages
Of a forgotten woodland,
Grazing upon a sweetness
That is
A whispering world.
There it will be
Yet after the death of wind,
After all has withered,
After Heaven,
Welcomes home,
Her children.
If I can just find
That pocket in your eyes
Where I can rest.
Oh memory,
How beautiful is the smile
Of time’s innocence?
Oh to hold that hand
That nurtured generations…
How does one return
The miracle of life?
When a prayer is burning
With the fires of memory,
My soul is lost
On the milky banks
Of afterlife’s river.
My hands are searching in the virgin mountain
Of our being.
Yet I breath,
A wind that has
Already forgotten,
And yet I breath
In a world that
Will not remember.
We will walk
Where the sun drips like honey,
Just past,
The horizon.
How, in only our eyes
I see the birth
Of every moment.
What do we say
When we look away?
Will we yet be
As the dust in summer?
Childish,
In the roots,
Of an olive tree.
I could not speak,
So I dipped my soul in ink.
I could not feel,
So I hunted throughout
The land of music.
I could not see,
So I prayed
Within the deepest temples
Of Gods gardens.
Like so I listened
To my rose,
From a thousand miles away.
The wind I had felt was by no mistake,
Yet you lay on me, as a rose petal
Would drift down the Tigris night
Upon milky waters,
Between the forgotten seasons;
Where the spirit is intoxicated in divine limbo.
And I beg the sun to lose my self through the sky,
A thousand droplets, a thousand prayers,
A thousand pages, a thousand doves
To keep you aloft?
This is how I blushed upon your cheek
Naked before the world.
Between the banks of an ancient Song,
Where poets lost themselves,
She drowned in me.
Now I rage, rage against time,
To carve a canyon where humanity will
Lose itself!
How will you shout
Through my encompassing emptiness?
Match my dust with tears and prove me wrong!
Oh to be once again
A seam in the sand…
At the mercy of morning dew.
Shout and sing from the depths
Of my empty tomb.
Only a stranger can feel
And call upon this past to ruin.
How many generations do I call forth?
How many will then dig for truth?
Walk through gates of my being
As you did…
The woodland pastures.
I am an openness
In the calamity
Of a star.
Oh to be
As light as a bird
In the fields
Of gold…
Lighter than
The wind
Dancing
Secretively,
Beneath her wings…
Lost in
The memories
Of our Land.
ahorsealone 
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