I alone sat.
quietly with qualms at my back
and beckoning this thought came
burgeoning the breast welling up with fury
of all these thousand years.
For how could my longing be in vain?
How has this world changed in the time between
sleep and dreams
and when the dreamer is awake
does he cease to dream?
Where do I dare lay these thoughts?
Will they ever fall a quiet rainstorm
from the depth of these brown eyes?
The grass is soft as my heart softens and all the day falls
salve and salvation
are the fruits of loves sowing.
Radiating beyond imagination.