to think of you beloved
is to dig into my poetic arsenal:
you the distant star that pulls and dances
you the strength of a mountain
but the softness of a summer evening
you the wave, the fold, the height and depth of the ocean
but i know in my heart
you are but a man beloved
skin a tapestry and testament of your life lived
eyes that search and find
hands that reach and hold
may you always be as human as you are
with grace
with strength
and with softness
The Lord of Ruin
I’ve pulled out each sword
one by one
counted ten
the blood drains from me
each wound I have named
sorrow does not look good on me
but the sunset is a masterpiece
the setting star we call our sun
burning in its own making
drifts on
and I drift on
let me say, if I could still say anything
this life has been my masterpiece
this toiling and this ruin
here back on the sands
I have arrived at the shoreline
I rescind my exclamations
God, You have been but just
and I have been
and I was
and somewhere else
I will continue
to be
Early Dew of Morning 