you, the heavens

not a day goes by when I
in keeping with habit formed
or more formal need succeed
in keeping to a gentle slumber

Lugh himself cannot outdo
my pace, lacing lingering droplets
of sun one to another to blanket
the sky with his burning dawn

there is alluring much to adore
in the heavenly shores that seed
the sky with shimmering stars
at night and ply the morning’s glow

yet in laying my head at last
to rest nested in the softest cushions
or in rising to begin another day
to play this needed role or that

it is neither Lugh’s brilliance
nor even the Night Queen Rhiannon
herself, whose illumined curves
admittedly I do longing admire

but you, beloved, who in innocence
enchant me, enthralling my heart
and spirit rising to sigh and sing
your name again and again and again

it is in sight of your glowing eyes
that Lugh’s morning hues are deepened,
it is with thoughts of your beauty
that Rhiannon’s majesty is restored

Salt Lake City 23 July 2022

Image by kordula vahle from Pixabay
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my heavenly love

my eyes trace the sky’s silently
settling over the careless ridge
of the range of these mountains
that massively surround me

and i wonder: do the mountains
rise up to the sky or do the heavens
descend to rest so precariously
along this unevenly spiny ridge

the pharaohs unquestioningly knew
the starry mother of mighty Osiris
draped her body over earthen Geb
eager to caress every inch of him

and so too do i envision you, my love,
teasing tempting above my repose
as I long for you to craving cover me
with your arms, your legs, your lips

kissing awake every inch of my flesh
drawing my heated hardening need
to push flowing moaningly within,
filling you deeply with more than

just my naked desire

Salt Lake City 10 June 2022

From the Funerary Papyrus of Tameni, depicting the earth god Geb and the sky goddess Nut. Egypt. (c. 1069-525 BCE). (Courtesy of the British Museum)

the stars

ask not the stars
for their track
time trimmingly told
has naught to do
with ever this

nor bother the moon
whose gentle graces
once bestowed
can never be withdrawn
before the tolling bells

it is but the will
of weary petulant
man that banishes
innocence and
tarnishes truth

ask not the stars
oblivious sailing
across the heavens
for their journey
can never be yours