I wonder what it would be like, the breathlessness, to lay so close, to feel your warmth, to hear your voice whisper my name in the hushed silence of closeness
I wonder what it would be like, the breathlessness, to lay so close, to feel your warmth, to hear your voice whisper my name in the hushed silence of closeness; and if I spoke of my wonder some might laugh, some would make of it a salacious thing. In some ways I am old fashioned I know, and my values, my personal ethic and moral code are seemingly worth little in the hurry up world, but then to me the gifted moment is a sacred thing, a haunt of beauty and warmth and; breathlessness.
I wonder what it would be like, the racing pulse the fast beating heart, the unguarded moment, to lay so close, to touch and feel your breath on my skin, the warm, soft brush of your lips across my eyes. The embrace that holds me close and forgives my hesitant, trembling, my awe in the unguarded moment; breathlessness; it makes my spirit soar; and I wonder what it would be like to be breathless with you.
I have never taken love lightly, never used or abused love though it seems such is not wanted and has little or no worth today, no intrinsic memory you might say, no bankable asset to sell or otherwise trade away. I wonder what it would be like, the breathlessness; knowing I cannot change the nature of my being to something I am not.
And like a fading poet in an old dusty book, when I stand before god, when god asks “what is your worth, and by your worth so shall yee be judged,” I will say;
“I never held my love in anger
I never turned my back on a friend
I never took in a breath so deep love could not find me.”
And if I am found wanting if god tells me it is not enough, I’ll probably just shrug and maybe smile a little and say, “such is my worth, who can claim more,” and wonder what it would be like the breathlessness, to lay so close to feel your warmth your breath on my skin the brush of your lips across my eyes to hear your voice whisper my name in the unguarded moment; breathlessness.”
As deafness, illness, and demonic forces close in around him, Ludwig van Beethoven must summon his faith and genius to complete the Missa Solemnis—a sacred masterpiece he believes could bring divine light into a darkening world.
I Made My Boy Out of Poetry is a powerful literary vision of rare scope, beauty and emotional intensity composed of stories and poems that flow in and out of each other like the most lucid and articulate of dreams. These are portraits and studies of
