Tuesday, May 12, 2009

mymy

then when he met her
his first thought was my my
seeing into the electric magic

from her many flavors of passion
the scent of the flavor of pleasure
bringing a neverending connecting

the shape of her voice teasing into laughter
like a circling of spirits whispering his name
a softness of colors opening some dreaming

holding and belonging are more than wants
like rocking the cradle that stopped rocking
the reassurance of being more than we are

from the many flavors of passion
pleasure is a blessing blessing blessed
this gift of life is about more than pain

the flavor of feelings feeling safe feeling
dimensioning realities of being apparent
safe in being seen being seen being seen

unhungering the elusive hungers
as simple as a holding of hands
or good thoughts thinking good

she turns his world around
sweeting him with her flavors
in the blessing blessing blessed
he calls her mymy

John Trudell

2 comments:

Fram said...

Poetry here ....
Poetry there ....
Poetry everywhere ....
Must be spring ....

You selected a neat one, Boni.

its_me_in_montana said...

Thanks Fram.