by Walkerwriter

Created on: March 22, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

3 prose poems

Now you are gone
Sadness at the heart, so what is new about that? Point me at the core of your being, the new birth in the world, a spark unseen in any other light. You individual star, flickering out. I'm in darkness, now you are gone.

Flowing
The flow of time has destroyed me, I have died in all my yesterdays, I will also die today, even in the moment. Who was it that started this poem? And who will finish it for me

The Unfolding
Sublime power at the heart of the movement. Not everyone agreed with your smile. How strange that you should continue anyhow, strong hearted confidence and such repose. You talk like the tingling of ivory, a violin seems to alter the sound of the surrounding air, your voice rises on the crest.

Tell me about me, you don't even know you. Everything is within that closed left hand, slowly unfoldingHe talks just like himself, but looks a little different; she says she loves herself, but don't let that stop you.

After all, you open you eyes on a new morning and feel blessed, don't you? All those words are from here, lingering and waiting. You look at it, the geography of desire, the search for meaning, holy sepulchre from invisible substance made; not found on this planet until you came along. Show to us the products of that unfolding.

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