what does the utterer give to the prayer?

Spend this Summer too between your fingers.
corn-gold, combed hair.
Only your stains were left painted on the sand,
where your body once stood like a Cypress.

But another time will come.
When the sea will postpone a crystal spring.
And the sea, the Morning; ice cold, is buried alive under your foot.

          - until Spring comes to bring warmth.

-GZ, 1986

I love harshly,
in the thicket with sword
I will not yield,
I'll be your shoulder, your shield

I carved her name upon the dawn
So every morning might be with her
But as it rose It grew too bright
And closed my eyes
Yet still I saw her there

I carved her name upon the sky
To keep her near me every day
But nightfall came and cleared the light
And all was dark
Yet still I saw her there

I carved her name upon the moon
To stare at her throughout my nights
But tired eyes are sneaky foes
And sleep prevailed
Yet still I saw her there

I carved her name upon my soul
Love not just with me when I look
But every day and every night
And in my heart
Yet still I saw her there

the life breathing in will quell the dread of a burning day before you; for, in the mornings, the air is fresh and chilled,
and you may graze in the openness

until the flowers fulfill you,
awaken you.

Take your forest path, your field trail, the one you marked yourself
for these moments. And bring the dogs,
let their leashes be loose,
let your soul be freed here, in this scenery.

spring is hardly sure it loves the summer sun,
till the wind is warm and fruitful.

I am lost between
the senses infused; linger,
letting them last long