This Solitude of Spring

This Solitude of Spring

I’ve seen the Moon of April
Mother and pathos of Spring
An evening with out Angels
An inner spirit of so much Thirst

A fish-scale sunrise, a blinding twilight
The passion of anticipation
I sing a serenade to mass meaning
The souls as chief metaphor of celebration

I’ve seen the tip of the fragrance of change
And felt it beneath my skin
My genes mutated to accommodate
Too many references, so many heroes!
Late hymns to West coast muses.

Showers of Spring

Showers of Spring

Spring, do you like to bring us pleasure?
As I delight in bringing
A woman to the brim of the sun
When I am in bed
The pleasure I bring exceeds all
The joy that is my own

For sense is a spiritual thing
Of feeling through skin the knot of love
Now and then, Spring, I think of you
And how your drops of water
Moisten me as an embroidered flower
Needs the rain and the sun equally

Both tasting sweet and orange
Bother materially required
For liquid sunshine of a fragrance’s urge
I too know the feeling Spring
Of tongues kissing the world
In reunion’s nest of sighs

There is an erotic measure
Between the days till you Spring
Ultimately you were the paradise
That emphasized all anticipation
The future in the myth of pleasure
The pleasure of the future’s offering.

Dilating Suns that Blur the Spring #Poetry #NaPoWriMo

Stripped of Myself

Oh, the pleasure is in peace
In flowers for the spring
In the rain’s soft offering

And hours of flight and calm
The uncertain harvest of nature
About to get into full bloom

That’s beauty, anticipation
Of perfect trees and dilating suns
And stars lost in their orchard of lights

The suddenness of God
As if reserved for only
A few days a year,

In this mortality
Nature is divine
And I am sacred too

O to behold the ghosts
Of love when nothing else is known
And beauty, when truth

No longer has the power
To rectify a life.
Stripped, I’m starting to
Float free, an unleafed
Orphan, a heart
Broken until this moment
I know nothing about
Giving myself back to life.