I remember
falling in love, each
time the first and
last, dancing into
sapphire skies, feeling
the edges of clouds with my eyes
bent on dreaming,
waving lightness and
dark to choreograph
twilight, driving
innocence into
storm, stretching and
soaring pink, blues, and gold,
inviting the heart to tumble
in, find refuge, and be lost.
It is mine to remember.
Every sky,
a soul falling
in love.
Calendar and Current Events
12 years ago
1 comment:
I feel inclined to leave a comment here, myself. Seda read this and looked up at me forlornly, as if I might have had a dear organ removed.
That was not my experience. Actually, this poem comes out of a celebration, if bittersweet. Whenever I notice the beauty of the weather nowadays, I recall the felt experience of being in love and imagine that other new lovers out there are looking at those clouds with some sort of ownership. I hail those lovers with gratitude. Perhaps the clouds would not be mine to witness without their forging a path through roses.
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