bird's eye view
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Maybe we learned it a long time ago,
like the art of the curve
or how to love slow . . .
maybe we traveled to far, distant shores
orient express or carriage with four
enfolding our hands, pledging our lives
as we walked across time
our paths intertwined
... maybe we fought on Cullodens red fields
striving for freedom our bodies to yield
maybe we struggled against wind on the plains
carving out promise regardless of rain
maybe we played countless days on a river
climbing trees, catching fish
you the arrow
i the quiver ;
one holding fast
the other to fly ....
reunited as all else we love blindly dies
then under piercing stars & harvest moon
some ancient page was turned ...
maybe this time : love is found in the burn
maybe we've always played our parts too well
navigating back to waiting arms somehow ....
reaching for the other with every circle of the moon
scarred, bruised & bleeding
love waited in the wound
maybe this time, it's not about the bond -
the truth & strength of what we know
maybe, this time ....
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