In The Garden of Love

In the garden of love,
petals drop free like tears
from blue flowers.

They sink into earth
like natural secrets,
to release dark scents
of longing.

I hear a command-voice
whisper to let love expand to
greatest capacity again.

I whisper back,
please slit open my heart
and leak out all the desires
it’s reservoir holds
for blue tomorrow.

Now carefully prepare my
moulted devil feathers
For making a long-reaching quill.

Sharpen the dip nib into a knife.

I wish to inscribe my medieval wishes
upon the moon’s cool parchment,
so time and touch
will not wear the words away.

Now take the soft hanging stars
and weave their gentle threads
into strong cloth for me.

I will wear it as a protective pelisse,
so no new desire can grow
out of this heart again.

Take the seeds of longing
we have planted in
our most anacreontic poems,
but do not replant them.

Instead, let the winds take them from us
to scatter across the world,
and then wait until the energy
is discharged like sweet exudate
from a wounded earthquake.

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Fantastic write love the metaphors
I had to read twice to take it in beautiful

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you are such a fine poet with your deft use of simile and metaphor.
Can't pick a favorite stanza; I like them all.

But there is nothing like a good Earthquake.