Tacenda Second Position Poem by Andrew David Hunt

Tis’ here: upon these almost dry, rolling, near desert sands;
Where plump abundant stars lustre above and below weave,
Leaving gossamer threads made of no- time across our eyes;
While our ears rest at this moment, open, desperate to perceive.
Tis’ now: amid the crystals that curl about our naked feet,
That our hearts reach out to meet, in the slow holding of hands,
To slowly shape our separate worlds into this: a new reprise;
Then roll away our fears, at this velvet night’s sure demise.
We listen to the breeze that now heralds this lingered dawn,
Our hearts are melting into the blue light that rides high;
No words are needed: so none are passed between us.
For we know all that there is to know,
As we now flow into each other’s flow, ;
And our voices become loud within our eyes,
While among these wild elder gods… we fly.

© adh2013