And then it happened, in a lost knot of moment
when the great aged hand of Chronos, Father Time,
slipped and loosened its precarious hold –
--and the wind of the earth stopped breathing
--and the sounds of the world stopped singing
--and the waves of the ocean stopped heaving.
Stillness. And I, with firm body sweated and heaving
try to recall that flame, recall that one explosive moment
when all know nerves climaxed their pleasured singing
and etched a semblance of you in my mind and time.
So, quietly now with soft silent breathing
rest into my arms, your form I will hold.
And I, unwilling to relinquish my emboldened hold,
with weightless eyes see your blissful heaving,
try to savor and endure this slowness of breathing.
I try vainly to keep to that swift liquid moment
when like serpents we entwined, I grasp that time
when our senses were immortally singing.
Now, for stars and heavens are bright fully singing
and you fervently return my blistering hold
to culminate again, another searing time,
our bodies both husks, our bodies both heaving,
our bodies both reclaim that one frozen moment
then lay side by side and treasure the breathing.
The winds of the earth resume their weighted breathing
and the sounds of the world renew heedless singing,
for the secrets of the ages are within one blank moment,
and the secrets of the ages are within one tender hold;
Let us try again for the all supreme heaving
and hold further counsel with our impassioned time.
The earth is now ours, now is our time
to cherish the moment of our own mystic breathing,
and forever look towards the silent heaving
of our own two forces, forever towards the muted singing
of our own tightened joints; Let us inwardly hold
carefully this last folded moment.
Always remember that time, when all senses were singing
and the earth ceased breathing, time loosened its hold
and we were lost in the heaving for one god-like moment.