With power, his muscles move
like ocean currents beneath
the tide; I watch him sleep,
wishing I could ease the
pain troubling his sober,
sleeping brow; I question
love; What man lies pale
and sick before my eyes?

Crouching beast
Facing stone, and
Eyes staring straight
At me

A low-hung growl
And it moves -
Graceless, efficient
Intent

The silent world
Of well-lit night
His eyes glow in
The dark

Here, again, we meet at
crossroads
points of
Turning - a coming of age

Two thousand years (twenty-
seven
life-
times) spent in childhood

This older man we seek
with a
woman
And a span of years to breathe

I cannot live your life
anymore
simply
Living no longer fills the void

The cycle is to continue, as I
move to
middle-
Age. Children grasp for power

You told me once to wait
On golden shores
And in the frozen north

You told me soon
The lovestruck days
Would rouse me from
My tired bed

Seashells twine
Upon the shore
The sun has lied

The restless moon
Will love me
While I wait.

We are bound
By space and years.
Miles have bridged the distance;
And coincidence?

A pretty coat of karma.

Lost conqueror
You have invaded
me
the last territory
Virgin to the world
You have plundered
Through and now you
sleep