consider for a moment the key <br />consider the handle <br /> <br />I cannot tell anymore when <br />a door opens or when it closes <br />all I hear is a beckoning <br />from the other side <br /> <br />blues coming from our roots <br />while at night I dream <br />of bonfires and ghosts of men <br />laden with irreconcilable tombstones <br />names of archangels emblazoned <br />behind a bird of flames <br /> <br />it is only a short walk <br />to another room and <br />I can see the river water rising <br />crystal in your incomparable arms and legs <br />your fingertips turning from fiery spindles <br />into satin tendrils cloaking me <br />in the soft confidence of a lover's kiss <br /> <br />the sun behind me is like a fire <br />tiny flames survive in the river's ripples <br /> <br />I say something to God <br />he's listening but <br />I hear no answer <br /> <br />so I ask the river <br />and God answers <br /> <br />in the windfall of thunder and <br />the coruscation of lightning <br />I stand drenched <br /> <br />alone <br /> <br />I am Aristophanes <br />holding a sheaf of new layers shaking <br />like a weak-kneed lamb searching <br />for my lost half <br /> <br />and there you are writing <br />grocery lists on the bottom of your shoes <br />asking me to take a walk <br />in a cemetery with you <br />and your dog <br /> <br />we walk <br />God follows <br />we talk <br />God listens and <br />as the walled road narrows <br />we melt together <br />and become one<br /><br />Robert Combs<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-105/
