Burning heart
Is it the passion
or is it the fear
that brings forth
my golden tears?
This body doesn't lust
for your sublime touch.
This heart doesn't ache
doesn't long to be touched
by the rhythm of your voice
the quavering sound of . .
as if it was a hidden but shared
passionate fear inside this tremor,
the longing tremor that meets my lips
fulfilling my secret wish . . .
It is not the fear
It is not the passion
it is not the night illumination
of you invisible body that
makes me think how it is
when lovers gently hear and cherish
the sound of love-making
in their heart.
One heart
The touch
It is; what is and will always exist
inside the silence of then and after
that frightens the lovers heart . . .
- Lovebirds sing for them . . .
There is no then and after
when the eternal lovers meet
even if everything, was, is and will be
like a dream out of reach that will always
live on in the burning heart of Thee
Touch me now
make me feel that you think of me
as I do . . .
Sing lovebirds! Sing!
Send my song to the wind!
Hear me . . .
Can you hear me?
I . . .
Poetry by night soul woman
Read 892 times
Written on 2008-08-30 at 11:30
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