I shall play...

I shall speak of the joy
that you are.

Like a thousand suns
burning
in my chest.

Like a thousand voices
singing
in my ear.

Like a thousand lips
pressing
to my heart.

Like a thousand eyes
seeing
through my soul.

I shall express
only the deepest
satisfaction.

Give me the burdens
of your song.

I shall play.

I shall play.

I shall play.

The last leaf of Autumn...

I suppose I shall always be
the last leaf of Autumn.

I shall always be
a stubborn rose
of Winter.

I will always be the first rain
of Summer,

a rainbow

just a little too late for Spring.

On Rocks

I thought I told you
that all rocks
are skeleton proteins
that somehow form our heart.

But if the world were trying
to tell us that we were
nothing but rocks,
I would ask
does a rock cry--

and does a rock
sing;
does a rock
hold its breath
in the dark,
does a rock
lean down
to water flowers,

does a rock rely
on its mother,
does a rock
copy its father,
does a rock
stretch back
in the dirt
and wonder
what is
a
rock?

Here I thought we would stand
as statues.

Here I thought our love was
a rock.

I looked at you like
a mountain.

Then we turned to stone.