the Way

She laughs and she cries
At life and at death-
She smiles and she sighs
With her sanguine breath.
She walks from there to me
With wonder in between,
And right then only I could see
A love I’ve never seen.
She’ll gently part her hair
But not from insecurity:
Rather, without a care
Exuding a graceful purity.
Her face absorbs the sunlight
A dancing flower in a field,
And in the moonlit night
She’s truthfully revealed,
For a loving expectation
Can play folly on your mind-
Entrap you in the condemnation
Of your peaceful, hopeful kind.
But my woman she is true:
In days tomorrow and today.
And only in her I knew
That I have found the Way.
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5 thoughts on “the Way

  1. I like this. It is like a picture of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. She was the idealized lover. But really I feel my words are like dung beetles after reading this superbly beautiful word-craft. I’m gonna subscribe.

  2. This poem is very touching. I would love to see you explore more styles of poetry! You are incredibly talented; I guess it runs in your family or something.:)

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