March 14, 2012

poem 80 of a poem a day for 2012


this is what my children were born from


we spoke of Pan 
and the things 
that have always 
remained unsaid 
in the trees
we were already lost 
for two days
a little water left
but we talked of Pan 
and immortality 
and we followed the rain 
of last night's Moon

a stream led out 
from a deep mountain lake 
we circled in wander 
all day feeding 
our winding 
into each other 
as the story grew 
it was a before 
we knew what 
was happening 

the water's width 
became too wide 
and too fast 
to cross careful past
this is where 
a guide from above 
showed up in the form 
of a single coiled 
braid cable of steel 
strung across 
a now swollen creek 

this is what 
Mabon flows with
full of the undertows
of what can birth 
in the passions 
between two souls
that share time enough
to create Love 
on a single strand 
of unwinding
towards a home

EJR (c)


2 comments:

  1. Your words are like silk ribbons weaving dreams.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This one is, a soft silted warm tide...gratitude for leaving a comment...Edward

    ReplyDelete