light rain on these shaking hands,
shower the earth below,
ease the darkness of our heartland
repose—if only to forgo.

softness flows over
rocks and rivulets, jettisoning
the clouding embraces of treetops,
holding the modulating fog on brushed canvases:
away, floating away, currents of love.

Pondering whence the Sun will harmless lay,
Hurting, no more the beauty, I array.
Inkling to destroy two months away,
Little did he know.

Ice melts slower than snow,
Peaceful rivers begin to flow.
Indeed i speak the truth,

Letting biting cold do my will,
Out i look, upon many a blue hill.
Vines have ceased to entwine,
Entranced, frozen in frosty time.

Utterly desolate, purely divine.

three years and the wild severed
her heart from mine—

and she told me that “the air
had the brittle scent of October”

dreams parallel dreams in the shortest of hours;
we listened together for the advent of rain,
for the unfurling of flowers.

time and time lost held the fragility of her eyes;
now woven, now frayed, her caress
wondered of the fabric that holds the current
of the world…of the crisp delicacy of
tomorrow.

“love is held only by the greyest of skies” softly i replied,
for i knew
that three years and the wild had enjoined
her heart to mine.

the sea
is limitless
and turbulent
and wildly beautiful
and has captured my heart in its
shimmering swells of cobalt waves.
this is a love letter
for a love that cannot be captured in words.
that is all.

i am being pulled by the stars again.