She trembles for
his dream light,
those eyelash caresses,
because the night’s veil
hangs brutal and blind
And when his heat rubs
the scent from her neck,
a tear sheds the moon ache,
unfurling a glory of starpetals
to receive her sun
If just for one morning,
If just for the lark’s song
[Photo of morning glory
courtesy tanakawho]
his dream light,
those eyelash caresses,
because the night’s veil
hangs brutal and blind
And when his heat rubs
the scent from her neck,
a tear sheds the moon ache,
unfurling a glory of starpetals
to receive her sun
If just for one morning,
If just for the lark’s song
[Photo of morning glory
courtesy tanakawho]
12 comments:
I love the photo and the poem. They work together like melody and harmony!
Stunning photo!
"If just for one morning"... so poignant.
Morning light has great healing properties. You've captured the quality of those first rays very well.
But as a tried and true nightowl, I suppose the moonflower would be more my speed.... The last rays of twilight charge me with energy.
;)
The longing in this one is so potent.
There's a loveliness to the cold moon, to the not-having. But nothing can replace that soaring warmth that only the morning sun can bring.
Yeah, I was lucky to find this photo, Ello. Its fragility is breathtaking. Thank you!
I've always been fascinated by morning glories, Aine. My mom has some lovely ones in her garden. Their bloom has a short reign, but it's a heightened state of loveliness, I think.
But yes, I agree with you about the moonflower. That's the time of day I usually come alive, too. ;)
Jason, that desire for warmth must be a universal one. But yes, there is a poignancy to that satellite moon as well. Even if its light is only reflected, its distance covers us all.
That's wierd, I commented here earlier and it's gone!
Sorry, Scott! Blogger gets hungry sometimes...
;)
My comment was, that you and Jason have your own secret language! I think you two should resuscitate the Dead Poets society.
As long as I'm not the guy who blows his brains out, Scott.
But yeah, I adored that movie growing up. Big surprise...
;)
"eyelash caresses." Oh, that brings back memories from my past :) Beautiful poem, Sarah!
So elegant and soft...
They must be good memories, Billy. :)
Chris, there is something soft about this piece. And yet the yearning cuts hard.
Thank you! :)
Beautiful, curiously sad and filling the heart with happiness at the same time...
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