Thursday, November 11, 2004

Spring 1999, Sorrow Stone

You are rare and precious to me,
My sorrow is like a deep blue stone.
I open my hands to set you free
The white bird of our love flies on.

I put the stone gently into my belly
And like a woman in her village, waiting for her lover
I carry water like I always did
Silently heavy inside.

But our love is a translucent bird in the sky
You will not return.
The sun is melting it already
It’s feathers fall like petals.

Someday when the warmth soaks through
The many layers of my skin
Through the winding tissue in muscles
Through my bones
And melts the stone
I will wake again.

Spring 1999,
Modified July 28, 2002

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