Used With Permission
What does it mean that we move through seasons
untouched by everything that changes?
You are implacable, a mirror of self in my eyes.
Your voice is the fragrance of woodsmoke.
When the fabric of love was made to crumble
how do we find our way in the dark of each other?
The trees surrounding us on all sides may be bare
but the touch of mist, your touch, is indelible upon my soul.
Why is it that in the sky-brain of our existence,
we follow the path of the moon like graphite on paper?
I don’t know. I don’t know.
But yours is the mind I reach for,
mine the breast where you keep your heart.
Art FLASH! in The Imaginary Garden features the work of Jason Limberg.