Wednesday, January 23, 2013


Teeth chattering
rattling cold bones
of a hungry throng
straining to hear
some hot word
trickle down
rumor of some
Man they heard
used to speak
a long time ago.
For years she waits
blue-lipped, cracked
hands tugging
at the sleaves
of a thread-bare faith,
until He came,
like an open flame,
close as a coal
held to her lips--
Come dance with me
my love, my lover,
my beloved lovely one--
be wrapped in robes
of my rejoicing, in life,
in light, in song.