This boat

at sea….

I,

the stone,

on shore.

In your flat….

Perhaps on the fleshy part of your forearm

as you reach past shadow of me

in controlled silence.

I stare out windows at never ending horizons and clouds that

threaten rain yet seldom deliver.

At night, staring into the darkness all around me,

the groan and hum of engine

sweep upward on wind and ocean waves.

 

I can’t shake this longing to be touched…

Moments disappear amongst shadows of ghosts

and the living shift

eye to eye to foot to eye to foot to eye…….

comfortable again. ..shuffling amongst the dead.

Pressing….am I the only one pressing against time?

Begging it to stop,speed up… simply peel away

from the bones and construction of……………..

who I dream you might be.

 

Distracted in the tangle of human existence and bodies

reluctant to experience ……….. God with out God.

I want to sink into the holy longing of living

Tremble at the thought of your ghost

Cast shadows on ocean floor

smelling dust of your skin

on March winds

Never knowing

what will call you home.