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I saw the black birds on the day's wind.
Such ashes that broke against clouds and prayers high above the earth.
Nothing is clean anymore,
nothing perfect where flies swarm in place of words.
With his dark eyes like his dark magic, the gypsy boy prowls like a lynx.
Disaster catches in his lashes, heavier than music in the strings of black violins.
He keeps shadows there in his eyes,
avid darkness that yields to no prayer and hides all sensations as expertly as night.
If he were light I would be air,
pierced. Invisible but illuminated. Breathed.
If he were thought I would be reason,
and quell some untamed dreams with softer peace.
If he were arms I would be yearning,
to be caught and owned, until there were no strength left in either of us.
But no love broke his fear
and eyes turned regretful, darkening again into a deeper depth,
the color of guilt and loss, black as death.
The hearts threw their punches
and like skinned animals they writhed and screamed
in the raw of perfect emotion.
He bears his muscles like dunes of sand,
a shifting desert hot beneath the sun
that was once his own love.
I watch him
as he opens my heart like a pomegranate with a thousand sweet pieces,
each torn away with jagged fingers desperate to hollow out my love.
I watch him and yet still I see the gypsy boy who makes light move slowly.
Theif of stars that cling to him, rays of sun that swarm him, I see it all.
Not so pure, but still bright. And still loved.
Weightless as the Ember
Weightless as the ember rises,
Prayers smoked the woodland air,
While silver-blue lit each their iris,
Seizing God by my despair.
Deep and haunted pious lines,
Revrent whispers grave of power,
Dared I send to the Divine,
Into his sacred ear to flower.
Fumbling toward unsullied fervor,
Over dank the rooted ground,
Shallow breath expending further,
Filthy with the lovelorn sound.
Rising, rising, holy grace,
The innocence of former gone,
Conviction fills its empty space,
But dusk reversed is not the dawn.
I've not endured that prayer since,
For report or to remember,
But loosed it without consequence,
Like the rising weightless ember.
That murky grin slid beneath the water,
And hair twisted with elegant curling black
Submerged in deep jet
Yet visible from the slanting rays
Pillared beneath the stillness.
I closed into the darkness
That rose as I sank deeper into slow tightness,
My wounds sewn with the silver lining of clouds
That strung from celestial ether
As I slept, thinking but not dreaming.
Acceptance came with the rush of faith and disappointment,
One ever swallowing the other,
Making my circle full round
With the oscillation of flowing completion and understanding
As it came back upon itself full compass.
No greater clarity, no greater appreciation
Than to have gained what I loved most and lost it,
Learning the great accept and release,
Tightening my fist and opening my palm bare
To expose my emptied fulfillment.
A single breath of desperate thanks
Bubbled small but full up and up,
Into the Universe to which I now so completely belong,
Brilliant and reviving as you never were
Like a star that will never align.
Deep with its immensity,
The lesson was placed into my grateful hand
To be given away again.
And the wet peeled off, and the dark became light,
And opening I received everything and understood all.