Discourse

From a burning golden glance,
With broken light from tree limbs
Cascaded down upon brown shoulders,
On a blanket of deep green grass
A heart is calm in a moment unending.

Ritual union in silent seasons
For a hand reaching towards a hand,
To ask for a dance in the fading light
Of this time broken by pieces.
And the past is a weight against chance.

In a touch everything is movement.
A symphony of molecules excite,
But all is calm, all is soft breathing,
And for once for a long time content.
The heart can be like stone or want.

All these fractured words are brittle.
Such a life that riddles with change,
Yet the night is peaceful,
I see something becoming beautiful.
I cannot will it's message, but I feel it.

Women know.
Truth is the easier thing.
Life is not a message in words.
There is the world,
And for whomever it turns.
And the words are inert.