A Bird of Prey
You swooped down on me
a kite on its prey
your claws are sharp and comforting,
your kisses are etching and caressing.
Your touch is night’s forgetfulness,
for me your breath is like a prayer
into the depth of the moment
A herd of words paced in tranquility
in the memory savanna
between synapses of Baobab trees
their roots raging
through a rugged heart.
A herd of words,
scorched by thirst,
parked by the lake of inspiration,
gulped liquid thoughts exuberantly,
rare drops of a Muse,
in the wilderness of Creation’s desert
A herd of words aligned in a sentence,
its iambic legs paced steadily, rhythmically,
the structure and motif marked
the blank page.
A myriad of dancing colors
in a parade.
It was delightful
to burn moments
like elusive shreds of paper
I sealed the time
beginning of its recreation
with a blue flame
with a silent cry