From The Plum Flower Dance
Lovers with Flowers
Can you contain my most intimate whisper,
settle it down after it has entered you,
make it a part of you and still cling
to my hand as gently as your eyes hold me?
Something must protect our weakness,
our mortality, and I choose the petal
and the leaf for their own transience,
as life is emboldened by mortal fear.
In this light through this glass and wood,
I sleep confidently in your murmurs and dreams,
deaf to significance, delighting
in our petty island of flowers and silences.
You have turned my soul to blazing pith.
Copyright © 2007 Afaa Michael Weaver. All rights reserved.