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Poem

I excavated honest heaven for its lens of stars
And found only bright bags of burning air
I caressed the rose and got only scars
From swift thorns more pointed than my tears
And still in the vanity of beauty I looked to find
The joy in me forever illusive to my mind
Soemething draws me to her again, moonlit silence
Throbbing: is she the one, is she the final evidence? 

Tell me that beauty is still the child of truth
And seas are reservoirs of all our blood, sweat and tears
Tell me that time is the figment of our youth
And she is the one that Raleigh sought in all his misty years
The sweeter than El Dorado dream at last
The gold of morning founting bright beyond my clasp
Until I bid the horizon come to my heart
Is she the one from which I shall never part

We are poor promise keepers until love make us need
More than desire for the moon's sibilant touch
Longing to scatters flowers like sand among the weed
Is she the one ... fragrance from future's clutch
While I in the bins of history had searched in vain
And for every dew drop kiss felt the sun's disdain
She was before me magnificient like a  morning tree
Waiting on me, to believe, to kneel in time's sacred vestry

Love is amazing like the moon, so long before us, so long
After us coming and singing the horizons of our joy
And full of pull tides, that cuddles hope so ever strong
Love is a church that binds us against sun's decoy
Love is the one, the eternal harmony, that made Adam proclaim
She bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh the same
She is the one eternal church, the hope of blighted days
She is the one, the channel, the womb of all my praise.

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