Love Beyond Breath’s End

Bird of Paradise,

in slow motion,

finally a bud,

long awaited,

is rising.


And me,


with the Fates,

with my sisters,

my father,

my mother,

all of them,

long gone now:

if that bird


before week’s end,

I’ll believe,

in love beyond

breath’s end.


Yes, I’m certain,

faith does not

work that way.



I persist,

hurt too many times,

by those throbbing goodbyes.



dear ones,

if you are trying,

to get through to me,


don’t stop.



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