From the green lushness of the hidden
Language between us
That not time or dialect can separate
I return to you, my last holy city
Where I am called upon to dance
The mountains while the world crumbles
For I have a piece of paper
With your name on it, somewhere
In my heart, like a chance patriot
Of a country I used to call ‘love’
It’s vaster than these yearning words
It’s sweeter than these torn mattresses
Returning to Eden, I am no longer alone
But I live and die for another’s embrace
She calls my name in a foreign tongue
And I know that I have returned home
A straight same place of light and comfort
‘Return to the same place at eleven tomorrow night’
Thy will is done in me, in my service
Of all the yearning of my beloved belonging.
“like a chance patriot
Of a country I used to call ‘love’”
mmmmmm. you make me dream
whew! you’re kickin’ booty & takin’ name these days, my friend!
Hehe pretty much! I’m living like there’s no tomorrow.
yes, I see you’re burning like a comet!
The winters are pretty depressing here in Montreal, have to live Spring and Summer more fervently 😛
well, don’t eat next years seed corn! 😉
Yeah I’m vying for a new approach to sustainability 😉
Wuji, I have nominated you and this poem for The First Cup Award
There are so many other poems you have written that also make me stop and wonder (and wander). They take me away, every time.
Thanks so much for the nomination Dora!
You’re welcome 🙂 I love finding your latest poems in my Reader-thingy. Your words have a talent for transporting me into other lives, even when I am under-caffeinated. Or a line might simply make me pause in a moment of beauty. I am grateful that you share them with us all on your blog here.