(Compassion piece for string quartet, ignored.)
by rain70
Posted to Poetry on 2003-10-20 11:48:00
I forget the movements
Of your courage are
Not like an unplanned
Music.
(For no reason, I sleep. Breathing
Comes along nicely, roiling
Leaves of sigh and skip, held
Deep and released.)
There are patterns in the birthing.
Bodies draw closer to cluster.
A short learning of sound
And a deep-chest
And a kind of danger in the exhale: A sigh.
You
Are not the desolation,
The haunting drowning
In bliss of exception;
Accept that the
Grammmar of the stranger
Is always a song
To be cured of at the core
Of pulse with a strength
And a fortune sang for:
A magic within the magic is modulation.
What matters most is motion, adored.