Five hundred moons the bud
on slender, lithe, soft-skinned stalk
belies its strength in quiet latency
bundled in its own promise

Nurtured in ancestral love's soil
bending, bowing, under weight of rain
shedding seasons in quiet deferrence
unaware, its own verdure burgeons

Soft new petals on florets of truth
weep in its turbulent spring
gentle drops of elven victuals
mustering, nourishing itself

Twin blossoms of vibrant azure ice
blazing brilliance, fulfillment
I am a humble bee in grateful witness
Yes, your eyes

I only miss you
when I wake
and imagine you
warm beside me
When my phone rings
but it's not you calling and
in the breath I hear you take
Before you say goodbye
when you pull away
knowing you have to go
your eyes shining brightly
with bittersweet light
walking down my steps
and turning to smile
When I close the door
then close my eyes
and feel eternity
the minutes after
you leave my arms
the hours, the days
the deathly quiet night
When I turn my head
and catch your scent
lingering on my skin
like the residue
of a beautiful dream
I only miss you
when I'm awake

You read my eyes
And when you see
the endless pages
I feel no cause
to close, but lay open
for your chapters

Ages my bound spine
wished to be splayed
wide for your bookmarks
your margin notes

Write in me, soft
pencilled reference
Mark me, as your map
Under the stroke of your hand
I am fearless

Breathe deeply in me
with no counting
and let your clocks
drop and break, in bliss
In knowing who we are not
we are timeless

Show me your darkness
and let me hold it
that you may laugh
at your fear
through Shiva's eyes
Play with me

I long to see
your child-mind
that knows so well
how fairies dance
in sun or rain
Moons ago, and now
my heart still comes
when you look at me

My hopeless allegories
hide no secret beyond
this honest open love
but one
I want to leave my flowers
on your doorstep every day

Copyright 2015 Ken Rush