My Fire

Oh, this is the depths of desire!

How wild winds do blow

within the halls of this longing.

Lingering aches

clutching at far off stretches of my truth.

Built over lifetimes,

tasted this day:

I see you, raging humanity.

How hungry you’ve been

for my soul,

my flesh,

my fire.

Photo by Pixabay on


It is the softest kiss

lingering within a dream.

A wish of the soul to be held.

Arms that lay bare.

Eyes on a wall.

It is quiet, it is searching

all around

for you,

my love,

for you.

And what if the day of you

arrives in my arms?

Will my soul shout


I know it is you!

like it sweetly shouted

once before?

Will it be love, my love?

Will it be you?


Garden Of Memories

This bliss springs from gratefulness.

The sweet garden of memories

we planted within

my heart.


Those Eyes

There is a softness between us.

I gaze, but I do not see you first.

I feel you, first.

I know you,


down to the bones that hold you.

I would ask for a kiss,

but I see it there


in your eyes.

Those eyes.

Bring me those eyes, one more time,


Bring me my medicine,

oh, sweet love!

What cruel, dark night

is this that finds me?

photo of woman closing her eyes
Photo by Arsham Haghani on


The Bear

‘You must not fuss,’

said the boy to the bear.

‘This pot may no longer overflow with honey.

But look.

At the pot.

At its rainbow shine,

at its faded inscription.

This pot has been cherished.

And because it has been cherished

it shines,

and it fades

all at the same time.

Who cares if the taste 

of its beautiful

is over.

A memory of life,

enough to feed the two of us,

still lives in your hands.

Let us sit

and eat it together.’

close up photography of honey
Photo by Three-shots on



This Wind

This wind

is the beautiful melody

of every precious moment

we played,


Sweet wind.

Sing me again.

The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 5: Let It Be Love

Darling heart,

sing sweetly

with dreams of the tomorrow sun.

Hold me in my broken longing.

Balance my soul with a million stars


from the eternal night of love.

And let him come,

dear and darling heart.

Steady and sure,

let him find us when he has

drifted into the honey

of his own sweet soul.

For what is yet to exist

has already been written.

Let it be, darling heart.

Let it be love.