Every now and then I sit and watch the sun rise to remind myself how it’s done – peacefully, steadily, warmly and in beautiful color. – Richelle E. Goodrich

If I write a love poem
you will read it.
If I say my lover’s eyes are oceans, or galaxies
you will understand.
If I say I long for the feel of the curve of her waist
your hands will feel empty.
If I say her comfort is my earth
you will smile to yourself.
If I say she is larger than the world
you will grow confused.
If I say she is older than music
you will become wary.
If I say she is God
you will sigh and put the book down.
What can I do but sing of my love,
her hands like fields of wheat?
So I will not tell you the secret part,
only that her mouth is a river I kneel and drink from,
her love makes dawn arise in me,
her voice is like rain.
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Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
http://www.unfoldinglight.net
