I am spent, and I am quiet
with suspended longing.
My river runs low
into cold-cold valleys.

My waiting is a bird in the sky,
turning, turning. Turning
my head from side to side
with searching eyes.

A scream wells up in me,
first fills my head
and then my room,
airtight ready-to-burst balloon.

You are a far cry from me
When I long to see your face close to mine,
Your expression tense with tender emotion.
To tell me without even a fraction of doubt
That this is our moment wherein
I can come so much closer to you.

In wide-eyed pain
You have looked at me,
And I wondered what is beyond
The little bit you show.

What is behind
The misty curtain
That screens you off
To another world?
So beautiful in the half-light
Of a slow-burning candle.

In the dark where you lie
I can scarcely see
Your fine features,
You are a mystery.

In sleep you do not smile or scowl,
And I am careful to wake you
Lest I should intrude
Upon your peace.
Lest you should change
And be not what I behold.

I have small fears
That allow me not to
Come to you as I want,
When you turn away.

O fear, rush on! Rush on,
That I might have the courage
To touch your being
And reach your heart.

I  often  wonder
do  I  need  you  
because  of  you,
or  do  I  need  you
because  of  me?

How I long to see  
even the shadow  
on your face,
because I know
then we’ll be close again.

You  come  to  me  and  smile,
chasing  my  fears
into  the  corners  of  my  mind
where  I  can  not  reach  them
even  if  I  try.

And  you  comfort  me
when  you  see
traces  of  tears  on  my  face.

You are like  an  eagle’s  shadow
gliding  peaceably  
across  my  consciousness,
caressing  the  fluttering  
of  my  emotions
with the quivering of your wings.

Oh  misty  green  beauties,
your  branches  sway
in hazy softness,  sadly,
against  your  black  bark .

What  do  they  understand  
Of   your  deep  mysteries?

They  don’t  even  notice
Your  simple  serenity,
or  feel  the  injustice
of  your  pain!

When  you  fall  to  the  earth
in  silent  submission
your  heart  is  seared,  
your  agony  spilt  to  the  sand,
in  an  unacknowledged  sacrifice.

Sprinkle  drops  of  honey  upon  the  forehead  of  her  beauty,
Lay  upon  her  pale  skin  the  velvet  blue  of  night.
Night,  breathing  the  sweetness  of  her joyful  voice,
Night  setting  alight  with  the  sparkles  in  her  eyes.

Streak  her  hair  softly  with  the  gleam  of  the  moon,
Carry  her  feet  over  shiny  black  pebbles,
Round  and  smooth,  in  numerous  existence,
Guiding  her steps, as she moves across the riverbed.