owed forward

o children soon to be of me
come hither hurry here now

it was once our love knew’em so
a poem proves’em true to their vow:

she scoffed at my levels of faith—
“I see it coming, in an instant” now—

see the focus of beauty, they were her
sweet words not mine she cared not how,

she was given, she could see it;
cognates, stars she flew by fast withou—

you couldn’t say, you just starred, too, at skies
for you, as vast in color as in depth found—

breathe-taking to heaven simulating
its promise to those true-love-devout—

time was disregarded, ready aim
for the one path easiest to see now:

there is but love in every sea—
where we may swim though, thou

may choose at liberty, independent,
singular, as is a sound unbound—

renown, if you will, and if you won’t
forever unprovoked stays heaven’s hour;

plentiful abundance pleads for its succor
as brown earth begs for white sky’s flowers

and lovers commit to a service of love
as those beloved do enliven faith’s shroud

enveloping their lovers for a time
till they are with all one, without doubt,

aiming high, through heavy breaths
and tears kept of memories flowing out

through the endless stream of it all
having had health, reason and right to shout—

there is no other prized victory I seek,
as nothing but gold do some see now,

no other battle to fight, nor rides
with which to race and surmount,

nor scenes as great and free
as those so high above me and all about,

nor fashioned heaps of dirt made
to shine or shatter I’ll discuss with clout—

unless there I have yet to see some great beauty
I remembered and lost inside myself, somehow,

and where none over none can hold
what he knows harms, untold, unsound—

and nonesoever feel compelled to tell
what they know not of out of fear disallow’d,

and faith freest course for all to choose
without being or having disavow’d,

for all are free to scatter about chasing,
risking it all for themselves and love, loud,

like light reaching through, bright
all to see you reach, proud,

star-grazing, gracing each moment
you breathe by, ‘gniting all ’round

everything coming together just
for your honest word, woven, wound,

spoken, born, alive, singing
an honest ode to your brow,

and all that ‘neath its crown
unto me my heart I know endows.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *