My children are flowers in night who praise the shadows of dawn
where tender as dust, autumnal branches lift your naked lover,
his arched shapeliness, across the blue eye-shadowed moon,
she who spreads her dawn thighs ungiven kisses long to mimic
within the cathedral of your reminiscences.
My children have dwelt in water, and so ride within tears you cry
and from there have gathered an emptiness away from your heart
for I have cast them onto the ground that flowers might rise svelte and ready
until their children, more ancient than death shall ever be, return him to you
for his essence is mine like the moon sighs her virgin note
and the way winter bears Spring as its child.
Even now you shall feel him each day through night
when a new bird mysteriously ardent sings you a song.
I am a root that sparkles upon your lover’s coffin,
have grown by love so bright, for I am the one he passed through.
Author notes
"and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular"
- mary oliver, when death comes
Comments
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I was intrigued in learning that this one was written with a prompt from Mary Oliver, Sweetheart, as she is one of Rob's favorite writers, too. "within the cathedral of your reminiscences" - what a sacred, haunting phrase that is. What an impeccably painted canvas this is, Danny. 
♥
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this is a lovely piece of poetry...very intriuging....keep it up
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this is a lovely piece, it's really emotive and powerful, a brilliant write, well written and easily read well done. =)
Jess xXx
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