Archive 04/17/11

 

   

Sighs

                                                                  

 

Warming each other, between the sheets,

This silent Sunday 7 a.m.,

We awaken, so slowly,

Into a swelling celebration of each other's sighs,

That we fail to hear our lives

Beckoning us to recognize the direction of the rising sun,

Step out of quiescent sleep's fast dissipating dreams,

And grasp the passing seconds,

As they elide into hours, glide toward destiny's shores.

Before we can reckon our necessary trajectories,

Sunday will have whisked our spirits to the next breath,

Just in time for the communion of our souls

To raise us up, forever,

In the warming rays of transformational love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

04/17/11

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 

 
   
Site contents Copyright © 2017, Louis Daniel Brodsky
Visit Louis Daniel Brodsky on Facebook!