There is No One Such as I

There is no one such as I…
God’s own juices flow here.
The plain upon which I falter is my hell…
Peace is not an accord,
But a gift discourteously declined.
Why do you ask what I have done?
The past does not suit you, nor me.
Had I been purple at the proper instant,
I would not now be gray.
Seekers whisper wry imaginings
In front of my shoulder blades.
My only sin is distraction;
My only vice, reputation;
My only virtue, absence.
Empathy dances from spire to spire,
Futile cerulean St. Elmo’s fire.
Muse, muse, where are youse?
My lips are pinned I cannot bestir the frost.
My blood is black, my heart a cavern
I cannot fill even with a howl.
You do not feel my kiss on your lips;
I steal your shoes and you bless me.
Grace is a sham and
God is left-handed.
His embrace is less than endocrine,
More than smile.
The passing days are instant.
There is no one such as I….

You

you linger
like morning mist
opaque, tinged violet
in mountains called Morocco

you swarm of bees
noise of a thousand wings
buzz in my head
murmurs or our conversations

you train derailment
crashing
disrupting
morning schedules
colliding
with deadlines
sweet chaos

you life raft
in a needing, wanting sea

Whispers From God

On my knees,
our familiar rendezvous,
waiting for you
as I always do,
to speak in whispers
only my heart may hear.

Silence.

I know you are here,
your presence is wind
caressing my upturned face.
I await forgiveness,
offering neither reason
nor explanation.
I await boundless joy,
lifting me beyond
a sea of transgression.

I am overwhelmed
by the quiet,
cold abandonment
of a fall from grace.

Whispers From God first appeared in [i]Iguanaland[/i].

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