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)
Your words are like silk ribbons weaving dreams.
ReplyDeleteThis one is, a soft silted warm tide...gratitude for leaving a comment...Edward
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