There is a moment before the sun sets,
just before the top of its crescent
disappears below the farthest edge of the earth.

It is a divine promise of yet another
smoldering spectrum of burnt orange,
crimson and cobalt.

A promise of the days last warmth
before night calls us to dreams...
before we smile,

knowing, with the reminder on our skin,
that tomorrow, the sun will come up again,
only to leave us with this pristine moment
once more.

Such splendid sweet endings to a day…
never to melt into the same horizon...
never to burst with a less spectacular display of Heaven.

This is hope, tumbling over and upon itself...
writhing like eddies, lost in the directionless winds...
this amazement is just God,
sighing into the end of our day.

I dream
She lies
with her eyes open
flying fish leaping
from two placid oceans
catching moonlight
in their silver scales

I wake
She lies awake, not seeing
that I watch her
talk to God
I can tell from her fathomless gaze
And I am amazed
at how far her eyes
can see

She lies, I lie
woken in each others eyes
My pond, her ocean
I drift – in her devotion
to seek beyond measure,
Yet it’s not the conquest
of her vision
but the silence
in her surrender

She lies awake
dreaming
My eyes opened,
Sleeping.
At sea, it’s
us three,
an angler of stars
the Beloved
And thee

I slip an arrow from the quiver
Oh last messenger please deliver,
This note I’ve written from my heart
And without which, I’m only part  “
I licked the feathers, drew the bow
Closed my eyes and let it go.
I hear the fibers resonate
A gentle sound for such a fate
Point, then shaft, then feathers fly
A line of hope across the sky
I open my eyes but lose its sight
A glowing arrow, in waning light
Wishing all its time aloft
I’m unaware the note slips off
Falling gently through the air
It softly finds an archer standing there
Drawing arrow and preening feather
She pauses and begins to read the letter
A kiss of words to hush the shiver
Returning her arrow to its quiver.
In her heart, she bears the note
While my heart longs for what it wrote
Oh messenger please hear my prayer
Return my note with an archers care.

The only truth is the one I choose,
and choose,
                       and choose, then
what of these arrows
dipped in an elixir
                of delusion,
                                 and illusion.

Yes, a shaft may go awry,
but the archer always makes his mark
                in the blink of a
                                 bulls eye.

We’ll sooner slowly die from bleeding
than from the poison on the arrows tip;
listen for the bow of truth
               in the sound
                                 of the arrows slip.

The universal adhesive
for pairs who seek to be as one,
is in whether each can endure being two,
I as one, you as one
                I choose, you choose,
                                  we’re chosen.

Sadly, I dreamt
in forgotten words
or none at all.

I asked my mind
why it is
you I’ve come to love
A hundred reasons given me
and still was not enough

So I asked
why it is
I fell in love with you
Knowing there’s a difference
between these questions two

My mind took pause, I shook my head,
there was no answer, none
Then revealed my heart, “beloved
“Why it is,” tis enough, that
I need not count past One.”