Waiting For The Gift
A loom has no end
but the breath of man
we lay our designs theatrically
pretend a deeper meaning for our dances
and sing above the din of death
as though there is a relevance for decay
I court you without touching
the possibility of your love on edge
posted by Martin Lanaux @ 7:54 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
Passion of spirit can meld lovers, weave them into a sturdy tapestry that reaches over all time and distance. The waiting is over any time we want it to be -- ships in the night no longer passing one another without notice.
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