momentary...

I watch the dancer
brown skinned man, distilled
rhythms from Africa, trials of black sails,
as he begins... to spider;

weaves a web I cannot see, resolves
a night long mystery then twists
the turn of a lovers name, mimics
ever gentle lick, flame upon wisp of wind
the bent filament of fire.

I am left to imagine what he has said
with limber arms, so many wishes
pour from his handsome face, rise
from his wistful bed...and so many
eagerly vie for a place
to dance the dance of day
in the long and weary-less night

The story ends, hands curve
arms extend into a perfect arc, lures
to catch a stray angel, lingered too long
lost in the siren songs of passions, fallen
to wonder of the flesh,
this puny and transient flesh,
for the flash of momentary pleasure--exquisite
for the flickered point of experience--so do spirits
travel the agonized length of existence to be
a spark, a candle flame in the deepest black.

filled in...

A shadow on the wall kept my eye
a focus on shade and sunlight; how
bright coronas edged your lips, and words
in pleasing tones of pleasant things:
our strength, our weakness for pleasure.

Within shadow, a mirror born gleam
as if the Sun also wished to touch you
my hands felt suddenly silent, as pen strokes
in mind's eye brought feelings to fill in
a penumbra when you were the Moon,
soft scents when you were a rose in my morning;

a welcomed rush of wind upon my needful skin
when you are not here, not in my arms
not in shade nor shadow---yet always
close, in my treasured thoughts.

o noite...[the night]

...a curtain of light,
someday there will be no darkness,
just the light of stars,
filling the sky like grains of sand can fill hands...
then they will miss the night,
wonder about people like us,
who only saw so far...but saw far more beauty

Moon...

your golden skin so near
at the edge of my wishes...when
I listen to a voice as the wind,
gaze at the light you send, to fill
pale night, blends stars and night birds

As you dance upon the mirror of the sea...
I open my hand, to ask--
dance with me, upon petals over ground
to heart sounds, whispers in new leaves.

I plant a seed in spring, it is a night flower...
like you.

an inner silence...

There is no wonder why
I compare you to sea and sky, feel
fulfilled by rich deep rivers
of your eyes; by cause found

in darkest hour
in fullness of power
midst of laughter or
when will and spirit cannot stir,
I see the dawn in you.

The rise of hope and new day
the way well known to an inner silence
assured; warming light that comes
without my hands, despite my fears
I see, and feel the possibilities
of life...and love.

night of fire

we should have met
in a night of fire
when lightning tears the summer sky
and we dance close
bodies rise to drums and thunders;

in a night of fire,
when the heat of my hands ignites
heat of your skin
lips touch sudden, dwell deep
in passion, when feelings rule us.

Fire fills searching fingertips
to brush memories upon soft sounds
and night has burned us before
glorious like sun in our eyes
soaked into us, defining
the shape and substance of us
now the heat of this night
burns like flames in the wind--
tongues hungry for air.

We, like petals of the moon
creatures of fire, connected
by the wick and candle of time
glowing to fill the blackness with warmth
consuming all that we can...

I breathe you in like air into flame,
drink you like water in the desert...
as if you were the precious last




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