We stand statue-still in this snowy yard,
love, lost in otherworld of blue-opal
landscape tinged by moonlight. Your eyes gaze toward
blue-opal stars, no sound but your subtle
breathing, rhythm of softest angelsong
somehow honoring creation. Only
your breathing. Nothing else on earth so long
as I stay silent, rapt in you, lonely
no more thanks to you finding me, holding
my hand, leading me through this frozen night
reminding of pure air’s sanctity. Sing
to me more with your whispered breath, your bright
blue-opal eyes guiding me as goddess
Athena led Ulysses from duress.
Roger Armbrust
February 10, 2010
