Falling Angels
Falling AngelsI
And the world’s afire,
flames kissing life
like backseat lovers—
the TV drones,
“One moment, please.”
Lingering like smoke’s ghost,
thoughts caress the meaningless
melodrama of everyday
existence—embers
burning to ash…
Hoping for this electronic
opium to quench
the consuming thoughts
of an angel falling
though my dreams.
Embers turn to ash…
Her form haunts me.
To praise her eyes,
her lips cultivates
an exotic plant
in a spares soil,
one needing a loam
richer than a whispered
whim, its care
careful, if roots
are to hug dark earth.
Embers smolder in ash.
II
Yes, at times I cursed
capricious gods and
their unholy quest—
that vision always
a finger’s breadt
beyond grasp.
Listen, I rage no more.
From castle high my
angel lights my path.
And patiently as wind
brushing against stone,
until only foundation remains,
I quest toward my angel,
my grail until our lives
entwine and our embrace
shall sear the night!
III
The thrill of nascent passion,
with its longing glances
and legs brushing beneath tables
season our days with that fantastic
hope to become reality: its dancing
on the precipice, praying
the edge holds, knowing
it could crumble and we’d
tumble like angels into the abyss
which race our hearts
like deer fleeing hunters:
a moment from hell,
a moment from heaven—
it the long night of existence,
a moment of living…..
IV
When we’re apart a second crawls by,
and the wind sings no more
but squalls like a bobcat
on a blood trail.
I miss your smile and easy laughter,
the sound of your voice,
soft as fox’s coat
and your fragrance—
what bee knows a perfume more sweet
than a man with a woman in love?
V
Were I king and you, my Salome,
more than John’s head
would adorn your silver platter,
and if I don’t utter “I love you”
enough, forgive me, for I do!
When winter snaps and snarls
Or the loneliness aches
bone deep, I’ll hold you,
and we’ll rock until
dawn sunders the night.