(After Ella Wheeler Wilcox)



Love speaks:
in the youthful flush of the first true kiss
in the shy averting eye that hesitates
to take this beautiful moment in
without fainting.

Love speaks
In the silent reserve
of the heart’s tremble
the still and ache
of hidden emotions

Love speaks
in the ghosting of nearness
the unshed tears that  fears
the  expressing of joy
that the breast barely contains.

Love speaks
in the humble spirit
that traces the tender light
that falls on the contours
of their lover’s face.  

Love speaks
in the wild words of purple poesy
that heightens the fire
the lightning and the mighty storms
that speaks the untrue truth
hidden in the

delight  
pain
madness
bliss
the rapture.

In the midst of this fleeting crowd, I

Lived like a hermit in seclusion, in search
of truth and purpose, saving the
vestiges of the bygone era, but one day you
entered in that hermitage like a deer, onwards

You became to me what stars are to the sailors,
Or gravity to earth, or library to an aspirant,
Under the shade of your love, I want to grow.