O incomparable Giver of life, cut reason loose at last!

Let it wander grey-eyed from vanity to vanity.

Shatter open my skull, pour in it the wine of madness!

Let me be mad, as You; mad with You, with us.

Beyond the sanity of fools is a burning desert

Where Your sun is whirling in every atom:

Beloved, drag me there, let me roast in Perfection!

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.

Windows mask the rain,
while alone and dry I wait
for the coming storm.

"I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways."

The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.

Be still my friend
& look up at the stars
But be careful
For we are drunk
And on the edge of a roof

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

the scent of your flesh was the same as the smell of the aspens
after a fresh sprinkling of snow and dust
    
      the best things haunt our dreams in scenes of the forrest


your touch made my heart sing the songs of the ocean
that you'd always wished your land-locked lobes could decode

     more often than not
          the magic lives in the mystery


your favorite game was the chase
the way the wind slides through your curls at a sprint
the taste of the sweetness as it tries with all its might
to evade you in the night

     if you love something enough
          it will never really escape your grasp


still to this day
you're the only one who could make me blush that way
as if all of the sun's rays were magnetized to the apples of my cheeks
solely to play a part in my school-girl reaction
to the cabaret way you articulate


     *fate may be cruel to lovers
          but nothing is as cruel as we are to ourselves

your hands in sunlight have often been god. And

i

have often been in love with them the way
they coilsome the body of a cup
in summer when or
(in your lap)
outside a café

neatly

you laugh

and your hands
(in sunlight)

I used to know every soft crack in her hand
and how I loved coating each one
with the skin from mine.
I would rest on her warmth
and think about how I never wanted to leave that vacation.

As the suns turned to moons, summer turned to winter
and winter couldn’t look back.

It dried her skin and calloused mine.
I would reach for her hand but
it gripped like a stranger with a hidden agenda.

Winter eventually turned back to summer but
summer was someone else.

I’m with a new hand now
who’s soft cracks attempt to fill my gaps. But
instead of giving her my skin,
I leave sand in between us
from last year’s vacation I never wanted to leave.