through her he was to know god
she brought him inward
through a darkness full of wonder
empty of fear
she shared him mysteries
free from all that was jagged
it was not big
it was not seduction
it was an encompassing healing
a grace full of joyful weeping
silence the first breath he ever fully took her beauty communion
Comments
Thanks for the latest two poems. You are indeed giving The New Yorker a run for its money! Enjoyh the rest of the weekend, and God bless. e/s
LikeLiked by 2 people
wish i had the money to run like the new yorker. thank you
LikeLiked by 1 person