|
Two stuttering fingers wrote my love
Spent the embryonic total of my thanks
in its selection
Unglazed fondant limbs
still damp where His Finger pressed a form
smote my heart in pale perfection
Gazed we two a while in separation
I had offered then and would not steal
a breathful of the fragrance
As a child would purchase
from the mother’s purse
and then bestow a trinket to her arm
I had tokened then in link
a sweetness to its source
Returned a gift as memory of me
Yet how it blossomed here
inside the bosom of some earthly wounds
Elixir clung as inner sense
equal to its outer scent’s solidity
So I went along in fondant smile
as one mellow shaft
absconded from the sky
bursting, bartering a secret
that it knew I would not buy
“That thou art, as am I”
Sumangali Morhall
April 2006
|
