A cry for love
Lovers speak in whispers because
(the story goes), their hearts are nearing a caress
and when fully entwined, they will speak no longer,
but merely gaze into each other’s eyes.
My words escape to the ceiling
and the back of the room, never to be retrieved.
All words are adjectives – meaning lonely;
every poem a cry for love;
nothing more plaintive than the human voice.
Love should always be a verb –
pronounced with each letter silent.
What use are these words?
Gather my poetry
from my slumped posture, my faint smile,
the bewildered look upon my face.
O Lord, when will my lips be sealed
with the polished buttons of Your Wisdom?
O child of God, merge with your Beloved
and purge this constant ache of separation.
(from A Jewel in the Dust, 2011)
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