Sleep assaults me
at every turn,
and I fight to stay awake.
Sleeep comes in torrents
of soft, warm water,
with the gentle gurgling
of infants
surrounding me with
tranquil eddies
of tenderness.
Sleeeep comes in droplets,
pelting me like a
wind-driven
sideways rain.
Sleeeeep sluices
down from the stars
into my room,
a cozy closeness
of presence
that sings in the voices
of those
who’ve gone before me.
Sleep like rivers,
like bones,
like dreams
of sleep…
I lose the sweet fight.
Goodnight.
Those ideas that drift
down
into your mind
in the small hours,
The images come
like refracted light
in raindrops on cobwebs
after the storm is passed.
These mental photos
etched in words,
but no less
an essence
of captured time.
Caught like raindrops in cobwebs,
a symbiosis
of water and silk
that slip away from your mind
in the
light of dawn.
She hides when I look for her,
sometimes playfully,
or from her sweet shyness,
and sometimes, out of fear.
Looking right at me,
she’ll smile
all tease and seduction,
and ignore my beckoning.
Sometimes she cries,
and steps out of my embrace,
and nothing I can say or do
will console her.
There have been times, too,
when blood was spilled when
we’ve made war, then love,
and sit together writing in the
quiet places of our hearts.
Sometimes apart,
but always
united.
And when she turned to look at me,
the light hit them
just so,
just so,
so soft light
made soft petals
of her soft lips,
and the drop of honey
gleamed like a dark jewel
born from dark fire.
A scent of flowers on her sweet breath,
a sweet drop of an amber diamond
on the tip of her tongue.
I moved forward to taste it, take it,
plunder the sweetness within
from her.
She turned and ran,
laughing as I gave chase
for the rest of my life.
Ever in past longing,
ever in present, seeking need,
ever gloriously lost in far away,
right here and now,
with the honey
on her lips.
Beyond Panic 