Monday, August 10, 2009

a show of sentiment (perhaps inappropriate) for the waning of the last full moon.

This one I wrote for a friend. Parts are a little like the last one I posted here, simply because at the moment I'm working on (very nearly finished!) another piece, which has my head in a particular spot poetically; but I think it's nice. I meant it, anyway :)


All asleep; I wake, I walk,
to find you.
Servant of desire and wanderers,
forgetfulness; you pour
the icy sea
into my hands

(that cup, that momentary—)
and I drink, I spill
or thirst, and watch those
tides so silent, small,
and sleep. Forgetfulness,

Tell me how you sing!
How endlessly
you chase that road of
never to hold,

thrown in flight,
deep lake Desire;
sing the words, sweet call
we heard of old,
the ringing sound
that hides my mind,

Or feel your brilliance fade
this night,
dissolve and plunge,
climb and tumble over
all you know. The call,
that silent song

to lift your head, then wane;
that wave on wave

chase, embrace the road
(your dearest loved).
Then meet in adoration. Sing
your silent song

Swift you roam,
and I rest here beneath your glow.

Eagerness, come burn,
spill brightness so much deeper
than your own.

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