Sky
How is it the sky knowsthe heart’s secrets? My blood simmersinfernal this pain A stream of cloudslit by a fiery horizon reflects what wordscannot express How is it the sky knows?
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Skyward
Even weeds reach for the sky, as if heaven holds a secret, as if liberation lies in the stars and the day’s passage into night is a promise – I reach for the sky with my prayers, with my wishes, am no more enlightened than a weed.
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Do come near, sit under morning star Your word has power, as if a mutual mind I light emotion – a soft-eyed me – and honour evening gift fill her world like felt on life. (More magnetic poetry. Join in. I’d love to see your creations.)
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