The gaps between hope

entry picture

Lucid dreaming eyes
move slowly.
His lashes fall
shyly;
a shimmer of smile
humming the distance.

 

Two silhouettes fall
apart - laughing
in outside smog air.

 

His hands small
manicured precisely
delicate with brush,
his frame fixed
yet evolving

 

through doors that swing
sometimes shut.

 

His heartbeat a tree surgeon says
sounds like a woodpeckers
forage into trunk.

 

She listens for his beat
to awaken the snake
in her spine.

 

‘Everything’s dead’ he says
Won’t let him bleed
Wildly into the space.

 

Both now silenced
as tiny icicles melt
each branch
revealing new bud

 

Two meetings
the third a point
in the tip of her tongue
the essence of her heart.

 

The words falling now
like rosebuds
confetti

 

Softly between the thick
of her womb

 

asking only to
dive....

 

*The poem was written as an emotional response to Henry Moores 3 point sculpture in the picture.

Irish crossing ►

Comments

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Andy N

Tue 15th Feb 2011 08:07

lovely ending here, maria.. enjoyed this a lot xxx

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Ray Miller

Tue 14th Dec 2010 11:48

I thought that from "His hands small..." to "...in her spine." was terrific but, to be honest, I don't connect the poem with the sculpture in any way, shape or form.

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