If we could only find words for <br /> <br />the freedom, the unbounded energy, <br />the love, the joy, <br />the devotion, the care, <br />the seriousness, the play, <br />the sensitivity, the abandon, <br />the surgical precision, the anatomical care, <br />the discovery, the giving, <br />the pure animal watched by caring human, <br />the passion, the attention to every detail, <br />the sublime choreography, the poetry in motion, <br />the silent song, the music without pause, <br />the feeling of immortality, <br />the sense of gods and goddesses at play <br />at the centre of Creation <br /> <br />of what we get up to <br />or down to <br />in the bedroom <br />or even <br />before we manage to get there <br /> <br />there would be some fresh and subtle <br />poetry made, and after <br /> <br />we emerge from this timeless time <br />glancing at our watches, <br />lying into our cellphones, <br />those telltale diagonal ridges <br />below our sparkling eyes, <br />filled with memories still in seed, <br />above our bruised lips, <br />sensing touch and air <br />and hunger and fulfilment <br /> <br />perhaps there’ll speak <br />a finer poetry about other matters <br />which love teaches<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0013-a-new-poetic-language/
