Still Night Before Dawn


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Day One ‘14

Still night before dawn,

My thoughts gain clarity

In the sound of rain thudding on tin roof

Like after-thoughts jolting me awake

Trying to find relevance:

The dog is restless and needs to go out.

How can I get through the day without coffee?

Today is a friend’s birthday.

I don’t think I’m ready.

 

The rain draws me back into her intensity,

Steady with beauty And birdsong,

“You’re ready. You’re ready.”

Raining Again: Fourth Ode Allusion


 

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It’s raining,

A steady pattering, drumming, pounding, dripping,

An opulent message from the most divine,

Aphrodite’s heart-beat on the land,

Love’s Law binding an earthly exchange,

Earth and sky, fire and water,

Lips and tongues, soul and mind,

Her swelling heart welcoming the rain,

Those glittering eyes of desire,

Guided by the Goddess’ own hand,

To embers stoked in immortal power,

Sacred water at the lips of Earth’s warm embrace,

An insatiable heat, an unstoppable blood throb,

An impatient tongue’s taste for fire,

Fate reigning on tangled hearts,

A destiny set at birth,

Stars aligned for an eternity,

Love’s Law storming at the gates of love’s free will

In libation to her thirst.

 

 

11111 Kilometers Away

3/2/14

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rain Tanka


 

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Where sad soil lies

Soft patter of rain alive

Green rejuvenate

Dreams that take hold in water

Rooting where hope is dormant.

 

I Could Have Fed You Flowers


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I could have fed you flowers

on a Sunday morn

still sleepy with the folds of night,

or gather you softly in the smell of rain,

to bring the petrichor of heavens to your lips,

let you sip the nectar of the Goddess,

a sweet luminescence of moonbeams,

an iridescent palette of the Universe,

a fragrant opulence of dreams.

I could have brought you forests in a bowl,

spoon bites of light, and limbs, and roots, and pungent earth,

Could have brought you the tranquil sea,

or the pastel sky,

or a river dancing, swirling, galloping

down a riverbed of colored stones.

But honestly,

all I ever really wanted,

was to feed you flowers on a Sunday morn.

 

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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.