It is on a star that our fate hangs.
\nWashed about in the cosmos.
\nSmall bird in a starry flock.
\nNestled on a little kernel,
\nsurrounded by fire,
\nis the Mississippi,
\nthe Taj Mahal.
\nChirping poets,
\nand the clandestine loves
\nof a billion souls,
\nbringing candy to each other.
\nFlowering in their dreams,
\nand going, God knows where,
\ntoward the incomprehensible
\ntides of space.
\nBut I am consoled walking
\nback to my bed,
\nbeing frightened in my thoughts,
\nthat my arms hold
\nthe most amazing truth.<\/p>\n
There is no one place
\nfar away in you.
\nYour eyes lidded in sleep
\nenclosed in your heart
\neverything that is beautiful.
\nThat God and goddesses
\nplay here, on this earth.
\nThat you are my altar of peace
\nand well-being.
\nNo less than a world
\nspringing into life
\nfrom an infinitesimal sigh,
\nto exist
\nand be loved.
\nSo when we die my dearest,
\nwe will cry all night,
\nand wake in the morning
\nin each other\u2019s arms,
\nin love forever.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It is on a star that our fate hangs. Washed about in the cosmos. Small bird in a starry flock. Nestled on a little kernel,…<\/p>\n