he was one of the tall ones
speaking carefully
walking quickly
laughing, at times, easily
but vexation came
quickly to the dark wolf.
Avoiding assoilment
he tended to circumvent saints.
still he hunted goodness.
hankering: can't all that
damn intelligence
construct more than
speeches reports invoices -
grains of sand
when we need to move mountains.
sometimes captured
by the unexpected -
a strand of music
circumventing a star
Intrigued
by the ghost of her halo
shining through her eyes
rippling through her fingertips
dancing along the thin thread
that both kept lightly strumming,
He wondered at their music -
did he think it would last
this long?
how did it move in her body
when she let herself be
enough?
Really - do we seek beauty
in one another
or that the shape of our
wantings
the aching restless emptiness
find a-holding?
of course what is
that beauty
if not justice
and what is justice
if not darkness
held
transfixed
by a halo
of wholeness
shimmering?
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