Be Still…

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Be still
And revere in solitude
A bosom above
That awaits us.

Soon we will engorge it
With a patient eye that
Traverses the mornings
In blissful repose
Sliding along rapacious
Tongues that could never
Withstand emptiness.

Suffice it for the moment
That they be one and all
Put to rest by the artless
Smile of the naked sapling
Who dances in remembrance
Of naught but the warm
Hand that guides her

And feeds her fig leaves
In the mists of noonday.
Pray to the elongated breast
That coils around the tree branch
Of certitude and warmth,
Slithering its way to the ground
Where the extra leaves have gone to wither.

Nourishment is here!
Joy is here!
Long live the setting of your arms
Across my chest
Whenever the sun forgets!

Come to my abode and
Adorn it with blue stones,
Remember when my wings
Begin to blossom again
And hearken it to the kingdom
At hand.

Your lips will sing the praises of
Trails that fought against being lost
And your other hand; yes, that one, will keep
The angels afloat,
Lest their feet become heavy
And their wings brittle
With forgotten time.

Art: “Allegory of Fertility or of Autumn”
Sandro Botticelli

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