Amidst Spring

(Poem by Wendy Howe )


Before the sun, morning owns
a crescent moon, a lamp
burning the incense of dreams
I lit when sleep fell soft and cool
last night, when the breeze carried petals
and stars echoed your love song
in their rhythmic glitter

The sky borrowed my spine,
spun it into a silken wick
and let it float on the brim
of Diana's light. The goddess knows
how much I love you, how thoughts
of us enflame the cord, soften
the darkness shadowing my window
and the horizon.


After the meadow lark sings, morning
bathes the linen sheets
in a paling blue. I know the power
of this color, beryl, sea-rinsed crystal.
It reawakens the passion
between man and wife, intensifies
the closeness of lovers who yearn,
sparkle at a distance.

Alone, I wake but the room
is not lacking your presence.
My skin absorbs the shade
and scent of loyalty. You are so near
breathing through the fragrant trees,
shining as dawn splashes her glimmer
over my bed. Here, my body trembles
adrift, waiting for you to gather
all its whiteness, these armfuls
of blossoms that Fate brings
to the garden, the ripening act
of creation..

© 2011, Wendy Howe. E-mail.
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