"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Sunday, March 17, 2013

Gnornian

Our love is in precatory 
And I am standing in the shade
Of moon hallowed trees 
As rose petals beseech;  
The ode to a nightingale;

Don't think I have forgotten 
Because I know you protest the same...

I believe it never expires 
I know my body in the flesh 
Will someday 
Awaken in the soil below her
To see the sky heavy in our past
Fill the iris with a flash of light
To pore into the dried hearts 
Where love flows through 
Regardless of life. 

Regardless of knowing to the full extent.

The doors that are open now will never close. 
The paths where footsteps overlap each other 
The hand interlocking between fingers 
The words whispered in our ear...

Don't think I have forgotten 
Because I know you protest the same...

Mothers, and their mother's before
Had planted the apple in our eye...
One spring morning she was holding a book of prayers
Rosary beads in her timeworn hands 
I, by her side... 
The seeds had grown a garden years later
As we all learned to cry without a shoulder. 

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