Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Moses and the burning bush: (an edit)

aged now I sit
the withered bush beside me
in the wind
crinkles as if on fire

a young maid came by and by
sat beside me
knowing her I said hello aghast
she turned and fled

I realized she had been a stranger
except the wind
the sun
the sound of the bush beside me
clouded my mind
made me think of another maid
with whom once I did sit

her hand resting near her right thigh
my hand resting near my left thigh
did touch
little finger to little finger

my heart burst

I have carried that flame
through the years
the way the tallest mountain
bears ice all year round
the ice captures all sunlight
imprints the mind
with hope
joy for things that may never be

only coming into an old age
do we accept that vision
bear no ill will to what has and has not
happened along the way

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