The world has wings,
flies like a moon bird,
touching deep secrets,
flitting like shadows
past a candle,
melting into
the corner
where darkness
hides in purple
dreams, where hearts
and tears join forces
with the bittersweet
taste of hope.

This is myself lost
within myself.
This is all humankind
touching, feeling,
joining, knowing, loving,
caring, hating, forgiving.

And I am the sob
lost in the throats
of the weepers.
I am the pain
and the balm.

Oh stay,
please,
please.
Stay
as I find my way back
through the frozen
anals of uncertainty
to see you
waiting there ... my love.