Patti Masterman

We Worship Where The World Itself - Poem by Patti Masterman

We worship where the world itself
wants to be touched,
it's diamond fever burning up the moon's brilliance
until the rose-entwined morning;
sleep wedding us to the day,
as the sky gods rise above
like the blood of a beautiful dove
sacrificed against implacable altars of evening.

Your hungry heart holds you
suspended between vast pillars of a dream,
where warm constant winds
may drink their fill of a sweet trust,
and where the lingering taste
hides like the petals of flowers at dusk:
the bouquet of night is always near
to those, whose other voice is music.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about We Worship Where The World Itself by Patti Masterman

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010

[Report Error]