It’s a while since I reblogged a poem from Jaye. Here’s a good one.
I will stand and wait for you
in the covering dark
and in the simmering silence of the night.
Keep to the unmapped path,
listen for the restless song of the leaves
and of moon drugged bats and
they will lead you through the perils of this old and ever shifting forest.
I will be waiting at the bending
under the hanging tree.
Strange things may happen outside
but in the shade of the tree we can stay
and water the ground with tears of promise,
of borrowed passion,
and a moment stolen like a pearl button,
ripped off and clutched tightly
in a fist damp with desperation.
Who knows what may grow from such a spilling,
from ground that’s only used to blood?
Who knows what knowledge may be given to us
if we listen,
ears pressed against the bark,
the wind speaking in the branches
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