Bespoken

You have spoken 

“best beloved”

My soul’s desire,

My heart, my dove.

My Sequoia 

My deeply rooted one

A wise acre,

Acorn of the Father’s eye.

You are laughter on the waters 

You are riding on the wind 

You are incomparable and spotless

And you are My friend.

Underneath: a rambling

 Solstice still brings me your name,

A subjective conjunction 

A phrase replayed

With routine sophistication and lapsed subtleties.

Undone by a fragile sun 

Summed up by the endsum 

Dawn drawing harder than dogfight, faster than a pull-down.

No lack in this uncased rack 

it’s full price; what a prize 

favored by your laugh and sighs, 

shrugging off the lavish craving 

cold lips speaking لو سمحت

Only to be rescued by the welcome abyss.

Underneath the absence 

The cradled knowing

Synchronous with undoing.

Seasons End

The seasons that drag on,
And then suddenly end.
Later, carrying small regrets like seashells from the beach tucked in my pocket
But in hope, my way set

If I had stayed,
I would have needed a remake on my days,
The former ways
couldn't be sustained

The fit was
off
The mirror no longer reflecting what I want
What I think I need

Leaving security, trusting
Risking rejection, hoping
Disappointments in the wake, accepting
Taking on monotony, learning 

On a new path, no time for carrying burdens or even getting cash.                                                                 The missing weighs heavy.                                            
In this season of waiting
I long for another awakening.