You bless me
in my silver moonflight
and my cat-comfort
and my dog-happiness
and my horse-gallops
and the me I breathe;
and now I nest alone
in fire-bliss
and free-winged leaps
with shadowed memories of
how we danced high, high
above tree-top sighs,
surrounded by our friends, the stars
who revelled in our joy
and I bless you
from the nucleus of my soul
for meandering my heart ways;
and for writing my spirit on yours;
and for opening your garden gate
for me, and for leaning over it,
so that we could linger longer
and share for a few more moments
the sweet, sweet nectar
of our flower days
and fireplace nights;
and for your quiver-kindness
that you thought
was slow-curtained
even from me,
but touched my bone marrow
in skin-tip soul shimmers;
and for singing my freedom
that bonds me closer;
and for how your toes tell you
that my heart-valves
will recall your touch
as we dance
the rest of our respective days
and in the hereafter;
and for sanctifying
our new comforting distant-friendship.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem