Confluence

I want to just take you by the hand
and walk with you down grassy ways,
through peerless climes, and lie together
with knowing, on a blanket in the shade.

Let us take this precious day,
and hold it nestled in our hands,
pass the moments gently to and fro...
Let's have this one, this holiday from our lives.

Let's meet in a field together, gold and wheat,
free from pain, with joy, and clear of guilt.
Look free into eyes finally met, out of time and place,
in this dreamland, where our shared pulse arrests the sun's path.

So that we can drink the liquor
that drips from the low-hanging fruit
along the bough, as night-birds sing,
and prepare their roosts, peaceful and secure.

We must gather the dropped sheaves
of our short and winnowed experience,
parcel them up tenderly, then place them gently
in our secret box of desires, and close the lid.

Wend our way then, and carefully,
slowly, trace the path of the moon,
and watch as the track of the sun
ticks and tocks our last minutes
over memory's horizon.

© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)

Australian eucalyptus open woodland © Jennifer Phillips