Sunday, December 25, 2005

New Love

The child who dwells inside me
has placed her dreams in you
and she is calling her beloved
from the faithful honeyed waters
running there below the surface
of her soul.

She trusts you’ll be a kind friend
who’ll play a truthful melody
and sing along
to gentle lilting love song
beating in her breast.

And like a raven mid-flight
in brilliant sun,
a whitethorn bush
in the shadowless dead of night
and a phoenix at rest
on a rose-ivory river bed
in the moments before waking

her heart is moving
through the geography of love.

Desmond Swords

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