A snowflake falls onto the iris of our future,
A mercurial distance maps across our canvas,
plural comet trails trail a picture; we make a wish.
Our fingertips softly surface the shape
of the rare, the blue
the spilled secrets of dreams cosy behind the curtains of our sleep
Our fireplace eyes, charcoal, water away
An endless blue, starry and deep
Our barefoot sideways glances listen
We make along our own true words
We are Worley’s at this beach with a little Elvis at our feet
Waves circle and caress the rock and roll of your perfect soul
We surf across them all and hold our breath
We lose our balance and we fall
Into the deep whirlpools of your dreaming
We try to reach the bottom of your deep blue sea with the tips of our toes
We trace the night skies for your tigerstone eyes
The guitar strings you graced grieve your touch
All of the words in the universe are lost without your thoughts.
A spark of beach,
holds all of our past, our history we keep,
the soles of our feet stay close in our sleep,
the mercurial distance pyramids and steeps,
the colour of our closeness speaks.
We capture a light, a luminosity between
That separates, that closes, opens, also heals.
We keep the beaches of our dreaming safe
We keep the beaches of our feelings awake.
Snowflake trails paint and colour;
the forever, the endless, the always,
that separates, that closes, opens and falls
a thousand times over, a thousand times before.
© RoseLoisPresley 2008
“You called and shouted and burst my deafness. You flashed, shone, and scattered my blindness. You breathed odors, and I drew in breath and panted for You. I tasted, and I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for Your peace.”
(The Confessions, St Augustine)
“There’s no right or wrong
This isn’t a gesture
And I don’t use my experience.
I don’t try
To let it go by
But it’s all right
You know that it’s all right
It’s all right.”
(‘Couldn’t Cause Me Harm’, Beth Orton)
“Why is love intensified by absence?”
(The Time Traveler’s Wife, Audrey Niffenegger)
“Widow. The word consumes itself.” (Sylvia Plath)Tae