Bio coming soon…

The Spirit Waits

I try writing beneath your lips
But you check your smile.
I measure verses in your eyes
Prompting you to look aside.
Your laugh teaches me
How to hear songs of stars
But you fold back your voice 
And walk, making me understand 
The sound of wind blowing through trees
Tearing them apart.  
Your parted hair allows me
To brush through a lane of grasses
Creating a cosmic interim of void 
Or a sonic vacancy from outer space.
In that broad chest rumbles thunder and lightning 
Striking explosives to burn in me
And blast me again and again  
Yet I never end but delight in wallowing 
In the interspaces of wound and pain
Waiting forever, for magic to begin
As the landscape of your heart
Becomes a garden of flowers
The soil in which I don't reside
Only a tombstone with no name
To show that you buried me long ago

While I waited and waited 
For centuries----- Outside .