Here, I am the only kind of holy,
and there is no room
for nonbelievers.
—Ashe Vernon—
what your voice feels like…
But I have no idea
what my voice does to you…
something opens our wings…
the moment…
The moment when, after many years of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room, house, half-acre, square mile, island, country, knowing at last how you got there, and say, I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.
No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
– Margaret Atwood –
when you kiss me…
no need to hurry…
we use intimacy…
…we use intimacy to refer to the physical when it really pertains to the spiritual…
― John Geddes ―
There is a moment…
This
There is a moment
just before
you touch me
enter me
when we call a truce with time
and gasp
into that moment of
divine breath
every secret
opens and blossoms
inside that still beat
. . .
a promise about to happen
– by Lola Moi –
this shoulder, rest…
Sleep has kissed your eyes. Do not deny that sleep has kissed your eyes. I have seen him kissing them. I have seen him kiss them like this, this way!
So put your head here, on this shoulder and sleep;
sleep, my little one, sleep for you are at home in your homeland.
– Kahlil Gibran –
on my mind…
I whispered an offer softly in the ear
of your playful heart.
I closed my mouth and spoke to you
in a hundred silent ways,
you know what’s on my mind,
you’ve heard my thoughts.
– Rumi –
