My elegy births a war
Though it conceived
An idea of hope.
And we wondered,
‘What was beautiful?’ ,
Growing through the loom
Of a departed life.
What was beautiful?
It was hope,
To be free of wants
And profits of our souls.
Tag: Sufi
The Adult and Child
Your inner child speaks to me
From a time we’ll never know,
From a far away moment
Let from a God’s stolen bow.
From a time we’ll never know,
From a far away moment
Let from a God’s stolen bow.
“…Collapse with me
Beyond films of certainty.
There is nothing to forget,
Oh the moments not yet met!”
Beyond films of certainty.
There is nothing to forget,
Oh the moments not yet met!”
—
“Let us go where we haven’t been,
Somewhere not alone.
And far is a lovely place.
Somewhere not alone.
And far is a lovely place.
…a place between far and home.”
A separated song.
I am the moment which lives through your breath.
And if skipped will pray the joys of death.
Feel me as you feel all the relived lost,
That you see me at a memories cost.
I will be waiting in times emptiness,
Where we will be born of our childishness.
And we are swept away in soft silence,
Clothed by a language of our past instance.
the blind man and the rain
As the rain returns
To its dark earthly slumber,
The blind man,
Feels the sun upon his eyes,
And a stirring is born
In the clouds.
When your cinnamon kiss
Rests upon the newborn wind,
The earth chases it,
Leaving mountains in its struggle.
He hears the rivers fall,
And baths in the thoughtless lakes.
It rains, when the winds of love
Forget your kiss,
And when everything
Is eager to remember you again.
Sep.21,2015
I saw the amber fields this autumn
Where verdant they had blossomed.
They grew until their time was done
And glistened gold into the sun.
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thoughts etc…
“What turns life so? About?”
Be it hush or shout
Do say a magic word,
Something moment spurred.
As your eyes say
Love trembles when your eyes bloom,
“Find me where nothing finds room.”
So love is lost and confused,
For that which is chosen cannot choose.
who you are
The world begs for your smile,
For it awaits your audience.
For it awaits your audience.
You are the mother of eyes,
And the world is your child.
And the world is your child.
And so is the love of the world,
In its beseech of a sibling
In its beseech of a sibling
Young Language
Our love is punctuated
When language becomes a word
For our bickering spirits.
We are two birds
Beating our wings
Against the others’ wind.
When you would say my name
With me, I had known
Your heart, my pen… a poem.
When you would say my name,
I had it all…a home.
❤
ahorsealone 
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