storm

i didn’t find you

for it is you that found me

when i hadn’t the words

you hummed a most healing soliloquy

i ran with famine legs to this thing that gave chase

rummaging through weeds to hear your voice, to find your face

to translate this song that longed for a knowing embrace

perhaps it was mere chance but it’s true

in a choir of insects

between the claps of the shade

you shewn the both, those delicate doses of you

as moss upon the roots of the quietest tree

climbing my veins, stowing wisteria as wild as the sea

you sung seemingly a song only sung to me

through parted clouds a most grand marquee

you painted the dawn,

you lassoed the moon

as i ran to your deep

weeping and upon bent knee

in repeated refrain

just as the bottom seemed to fall

the sun did reach and grab hold of my withering wane

with shuttered breath, you swallowed my clouds

taking my storm in unrelenting press

extending your hand,

its softness once again finding me

in its long ago sweet undress