Saturday, June 07, 2008

Your Beauty

Your beauty
pulls minds like babes
out of each grain of sand.
It conditions flowers to bleed light.
It dances in the blood
where every cell is a shoe
for Your steps.

I don’t think I am You
I don’t think of You or I.
I feel.
I feel the breath of Your beauty.
I feel the lightness of Your flowers
opening under my skin
where the void arises.

You are not a thing to paint
or to compare.
Your beauty
is a flare of radiance,
a glimmer
only the heart can see
or remember
as the eyes dream.