Friday, February 13, 2015
the sounds of color
the taste of shapes
the incanted rose, peach, red orange.
i'm in heaven
ticking God's accounts
pleasure seekers find what they seek
only open to that first morning breath
and it begins again…
riding the night into the moon
endless pearls falling from the broken mala,
past devotions become present wonder,
prompted by a poem honoring anne sexton by erica jong and the rest of my life.