an original poem by Karen Jaynes
Oh, what a night to behold and now to be told
As the third month marches
Carried by the winds of change across the mountain range
I sit in stillness as you swirl beautiful verses through my soul’s branches
And the moon in this night I bathe in her light.
She is in all her glory as I tell this story, as I too sit with her in kind.
Her full goddess roundness touching mine.
As the scene is framed
around the window of my room like a landscape painting tamed
on a canvas by Bob Ross...
Gently in bed resting your numbers-filled head,
I hear you breathe
Without a doubt this brings me peace
You read to me
And drifted off
Without ceasing, the winds increasing power by the hour
as my thoughts move quickly on to page
A crescendo of nature’s rage
Sound and song fill my being
for ever and how long I stay awake.
The windows quake.
For to miss this moment with all said upon it,
in the slumber of unknowing would surely be
a loss in my growing, flowing desire to be
Here with you
In your light
On my face
My body in pure form wrapped like a gift in a blanket and warm
In your sight
From your face
My heart in pure form wrapped in words like a blanket and warm
Oh, what a night to behold
I am told.