You who walk in unseen light and see it.
You who hear harsh light and never fear it.
You who record sacred light albeit
in lyrics meant for fertile earth near its
secret soul, keep me close to your broken
heart. Let me feel it mend—legend spoken
in ancient tongues, carved on shriveled oaken
ship shells moored on beaches of ancient seas.
Let me sense its rhythmic passion released
in your suffering stare, never to cease
in this lifetime. Let my passion increase
with every flare of your burning eyes. Please
enfold me in your moonlit cape. Hold me.
I hold you as muse. The gods have told me.
Roger Armbrust
June 27, 2013
