Give me the words that tell you everything,
Let me start an echo against your heart;
Rhythmic words to bounce and return,
Caressing, Love, until you know.

Like the breath of an infant
Blooming new each day
Sweet toiletries
Fresh fragrance
Life unfolds before us

Natural bounties
Fruit bearing
Baring flesh
Sensory experiences
Gifts given, again and again

Never prosaic
Supreme variety
All for me, for you
We must remember
When taking, to give

The weight of a dragonfly does not break the stem of a flower.

Things I have learned as I am aging:
I am still learning

You cannot survive on dreams of hope
You must have hopes to dream,
Dreams to survive.

You have taken the sleep from my eyes
And the comfort from my chest.

I have great pain, but there is no medicine.
You have taken the payment and fled,

A ruby-red dries
Crusting under your fingernails, as you do.

A blood-orange, peeled, bleeds bright
across the horizon, then slips silently
beneath a wave of ruddy light, so sanguine.

Night falls away to a golden glitter
spilling glimmering light above our heads;
a cricket stretches and moans a scratchy tune.  

We drink of this spilled juice,
wear the sparkles in our hair,  
and dance to the tiny violinist's song.

You were all the world to me in this scene.
You were a blood-orange bright.  
You were the sparkle of the night.

You were and are the cricket's song forever in my ears.