Pursuing the poetical, paradoxical, metaphorical, lyrical, artistical, majestical, and mystical.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Camping


He helps me
into water
washing my skin
and hair tender
before
leading me to lay
down clean ~
heaven above,
earth beneath,
water beside us ~

loving me back
from exhaustion.


Like a stuck
casement window, 
handle gears rusted~
wanting to stay shut~ 
he cranks me
wide open, 
letting fresh love 
blow through. 
The stars peek inside
open screens, then 
shoot across the sky
in applause.


Watching the flame
lick and caress the wood
till its colors 
come out glowing
pink, purple, red, 
blue, apricot, and yellow
makes me 
want to stay 
burning also ~
to fear not 
the dark.  

The colors of bruises 
are also the colors of
rainbows. 








9 comments:

Maureen said...

Great title for your wonderful poem of love.

nance marie said...

lots of fresh love blowing through here!

togetherforgood said...

this is lovely.

S. Etole said...

The beginning reminded me of the 23rd Psalm.

Louise Gallagher said...

This is lovely!

Sherlene said...

Pain is an unlikely gift.

Anonymous said...

Very good,
Wondered what you both have been up to.
You drew a picture for me and I loved it.
Mom

Simply Darlene said...

Miss Kathleen,

The stars peaked inside whilst you were here, right in our midst, in our home, and in our hearts.

Blessings.

Diane Walker said...

Wow.