Friday, June 02, 2006

she woke me up to see me

She woke me up to see me.

My mouth made an O of my soul.

A silent reason to be born

spoke to itself.

Thighs arched into bridges.

I became a span of my flesh.

My heart beating its blood

into poems.

I can’t get enough of Her.

I howl to be Her holiness.

A place for Her to touch lightly

to tantalize with grace.

I fumble with the

restraints of prayer.

I am urgent,

I am the sweat of Her longing.

We are shipwrecks of a sky

that only She can see.

Image: "Celtic Dream" Martine Jacobs (c)