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Clouds,
Heavy with rain,
Dark,
Ominous,
Gray.
Hanging sluggishly over,
Majestic
Mountain
Peaks.
If I climb high enough,
I will disappear into the vaporous,
Shroud of,
Misty,
Cloud.
You won't be able to see me there.
It will appear that I have vanished into thin air.
Up where the air is thin,
My substance will disappear,
The further up I travel.
I will be formless as the fog.
Yet I will still be there.
I feel Your presence, Beloved.
You breathe on me.
My body sways.
I feel weak.
Like a flower delicate and fragile in the breeze.
My legs won't support me.
My mind ceases to think.
I just am.
Breathing in and breathing out.
Quietly existing in the warmth of Your Breath.
My lines get fuzzy.
The separation between You and I gets blurry.
Are You in me or am I in You?
The Mountain disappears.
Enveloped
By the impregnated,
Cloud,
Heavy,
With its burden of,
Rain.
And
I
Disappear
With
It.
connie crane
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, April 21, 2008 |
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Poets
