Recently written in the early morning after another night of sleep fragmented by anxiety. It is a poem of affection for my wife.
4:55 am (for Barbara)
White-hot knuckles hard
Clenched fist restricts the
Yearning of an infant need.
Ambition dashed to ash.
Beat to beat, prepare the embattlements.
Hope hissing from the snake within,
Serpentine musings wind around
Tick-tock on-goal kicks.
Around and through, Within they undo.
Cancers of doubt. cancers of doubt
His Anchor mooring the search for more.
Embers climb dark, stark to star to star.
Carry words that ache without tarry.
Circular gales force night to day
Tonight’s the night. She bright size life of
Day. Her Love Supreme
Around and Through. Without you:
Cancers of Doubt
Borne to Slow
- Mr. Average
- Posts: 2031
- Joined: Sat Jun 28, 2003 12:22 pm
- Location: Orange County, Californication
Borne to Slow
"The smarter mysteries are hidden in the light" - Jean Giono (1895-1970)