Spring Poem by Joyelle Osburn

I make love to the thought of you.
Moments like this enduring
the painful tenderness
that shepherd tears
to a safe sanctuary
where you hold me and call
upon my inner most solace.

You exist in times of desolation
when my heart believes in nothing
more than agony.
I am alone
walking a familiar short cut
knowing of what lies ahead
and clutching to black limbs
that crowd the path.

With my sword of thirst,
I rend them back
piece by piece-
one step closer to you.

Nearing the silent beat
of your heart,
I dropp a basket of petals
and etch my name in the tree
that imprisons your soul.

Your face glistens like moonlight.
You shimmer among a million scattered dreams.
You tell me that I am your Spring-
beauty with the eyes of an angel
and smiles of the sea.
I sigh and grin as you push
an orchid behind my ear.

Tomorrow, when I find
you once again,
I'll bring to you the sunshine,
the smell of cut grass,
and the fresh rain of Spring.