Sometimes I call out
\nlike a mariner waking from a dream.
\nThe world a beautiful sea,
\nevery dust mote a word,
\nthe sound of a bell,
\na memory composed of loving someone.
\nThere is a hum inside the air
\nthat never leaves.
\nPoems written in the rocks,
\nand from nothing
\nstars pouring like snow,
\nlike butterflies looking for gardens.<\/p>\n
When this happens I hold my breath,
\nas if I\u2019ll vanish,
\nbecome rain,
\nleave an absence on my pillow
\nand hear a voice calling,
\nwhere are you?
\nWhere have you gone?
\nThen I slowly breathe again,
\ntelling the dream, not now,
\nnot ever if my darling is sad,
\nand my heart breaking
\nnot to kiss her sadness away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sometimes I call out like a mariner waking from a dream. The world a beautiful sea, every dust mote a word, the sound of a…<\/p>\n