Praise
The melody in your voice is my god;
my ears tune in to the rises and falls,
the tides of your song—my heartbeat follows.
Convert me to this love, silent preacher;
take me in your arms and dissolve me to nothing.
Your softness is a touch of redemption,
vanishing body weight into pure crystal light.
I renounce mind and thoughts for this closeness.
Thinking does not move my hand closer to yours;
mind doesn’t know how to rest on your shoulder.
Our union in laughter is my god;
fears transform into belly-aching sobs of joy.
Praise be to timelessness in these moments,
and the radiance you set afire.
Collective Memory
Rewriting a moment—
there’s no editing of the past;
at last, the shouts come through,
burning to be heard.
The listeners, the wanderers, the prophets
lined up to accept the ones inside of us,
crying to be seen.
Love
You want to speak
but the windows
behind your words
are about to
shatter.
Untitled
Softness—
more delicate
than how
clouds might brush
skin,
more like the
tip of a candle flame
bathed in
waves of oxygen,
or
melting
that emerges
the moment before
holding,
or
being in the midst of
tenderness,
innate rapture of seeing.
The Body Knows
Skin inching towards skin,
contours, round surfaces
like velvet spread across
shoulders, hands to tongues,
symphonic nerve fibers,
a fluidity of voices.
Bodies enveloped by being,
returning to is from not.
Ripples of sound,
waves of listening
stream through the body,
pulsations of time’s
desire to absorb
this beauty of now.
Warming motion,
delicacy of water
turning towards
bones submerged in
our skin’s grace.
The body knows
how to move
with this joy.