it’s too late now
to be where you are
lost, in the multitude of stars
and the universe that crowns your head
i grow bulbous with hunger
wrought like an ocean as the waves of me
go chasing each other - swallowing
distances and the horizon that
steals you from me
wrecked on the shores of twilight
i go marking the anchors of time
the nets that do not hold you
and me,
the woman harbour
you no longer moor at.
©2006
the woman harbour
the woman harbour
The path to true love isn't always straight.
(Uknown)
www.algonquinstable.com
(Uknown)
www.algonquinstable.com
so the flow of this is beautiful, like the gentle waves at the tip of a bay in the night. last january, i was in eilat, israel, at a fingertip of the red sea and this poem moves the exact way of the water there: rhythmically and slow, forcefully and constant and lovely. it's all beauttiful...but, damn, those first four lines are amazing!
"Every genuinely religious person is a heretic, and therefore a revolutionary" -- GBShaw
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