I don't understand when beautiful eyes cry
Because of a farewell so unavoidable.
Like the angels who dance for our God in heaven
So these stars have danced with every joy.
Why should they be sad all night long,
When the darkest space in the sky is a vast and uncross-able Jordan?
Don't you know?
I will hold you until the storm has fled.
I will cover you with my last blanket (or my first, or any in the middle).
When I am there (which is always),
Not even the shadow of Harm will catch your shatteringly divine eyes.
Don't you know, my star?
If you cry out in the dark of night,
I will awaken the dawn.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
you are tired (i think) By: ee cummings
You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
- e.e. cummings
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.
Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)
You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.
- e.e. cummings
Friday, December 9, 2011
Eye-Contact
I see the golden threads connecting us.
I see it in my heart and not my mind.
A never-ending shackle that binds the broken-hearted.
A connection to the souls of all mankind.
Listen to the voices of my neighbor's hurt.
Listen, and take in my helpless stance.
How can I breathe a word to bring them comfort?
How can I disclose my hand and take a chance?
Like a river our love can make our courses strong.
Like a river we bend and sway with time.
I see the golden threads connecting us.
I see it in my heart and not my mind.
I see it in my heart and not my mind.
A never-ending shackle that binds the broken-hearted.
A connection to the souls of all mankind.
Listen to the voices of my neighbor's hurt.
Listen, and take in my helpless stance.
How can I breathe a word to bring them comfort?
How can I disclose my hand and take a chance?
Like a river our love can make our courses strong.
Like a river we bend and sway with time.
I see the golden threads connecting us.
I see it in my heart and not my mind.
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