again I was a child
worshiping barefoot breezes
given to the sunrise
of her born-again
she was new earth blush
her freedoms were a star-dance
of midnight constellations
and forgiveness was a song
that I could only hum
I cupped the laughter blind
catching angel smoke in nets
white wisps the still center
around which the universe
wrapped the fragile of my dreams
she smiled daylight redemption
and clover was a summered prayer
kneeling in her meadows
whispering soft my sins
to slow-song altar calls
and I was not a child
and she was not a child
in the temples of deep August
low smolder embers
ask me how my soul burns
in pyres of blue-eyed sky
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Author:
Heather T (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2017 17:07
- Comment from author about the poem: Please forgive the re-post. I deleted the original posting. I regret losing the comments on the first.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
Offline)
Comments7
Very nice indeed.
Thank you, AP!
Very beautiful scenery, great wording like "temples of deep August", or "forgiveness was a song". Heather, you definitely know how to write!
okay, how does your soul burn? it's a provoking thought you captured as indeed all the way through. I wished had it gone on for longer. lovely writing.
Beautifully lyrical...
Breath-taking poetry - your talent for word is second to none Heather.
Beautiful write, loved the last line.
Yeah that "temples of deep August" line that's a sealer a coup de grace wrapped in a feather . Booming write sweet Heather. 🌹
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