Monday, October 22, 2012


There is one book I want to read
above all others.
Please keep it at your finger tips as you sleep,
on the far side of the bed,
so that I must reach across your warm bare skin
in seeking it.

I admire crows
more than any other bird.
You have stolen them,
all of them,
so that your hair against my face
becomes a night composed from a million dark wing beats.

There is a house,
a small house,
I have seen in my dreams.
You were there, my love,
asleep in a cloud of small swirling bodies,
the most beautiful woman I have ever seen--
with a book half open at your finger tips
as if it might, at any moment, speak your name.


hedgewitch said...

The final stanza is almost a poem in itself, perfectly balanced and pure in message and transcendent in feel... The crows are a potent symbol in this, of a darkness that shelters and transforms the common into the sublimely alive, just as crows can transform the dead into their own living bodies...and like a broken record, again I say, no one writes love poems like you, Shay.

Shadow said...

wistful and wishful, a piece of beauty, especially your image of her black hair...

Lynn said...

"asleep in a cloud of small swirling bodies" - lovely.

Anonymous said...

I love it when you write that her hair is made of birds.

I see something "extra" in finger tips, which should be one word. But you've made it two. Is that to draw out the pronunciation? To make "tips" roll off the lips is a sensual way? Does it mean something special? Are you talking about another sort of "tip"?
So in dream interpretation, the house represents the self. So you were small, and she was inside you---a secluded place where the two of you couldn't be touched. A magical place made of clouds and things that could not be defined. Oh wait, a cloud of bodies. Now that's different. And you've repeated "small"---used it twice in one stanza, so it really means something. So she is small and one who stands out among all the rest. I think "small" means that you want to take care of her, protect her, like your precious child.

This gave me chills: "as if it might, at any moment, speak your name" ... To be known. The book, the words, the story---they are your connection, a portal. The one place where she is seen. Beautiful.

TexWisGirl said...

warmed my heart.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

So lovely and tender, especially the hair composed of wing beats. (Wow.) And closing lines that just sing. No one writes love poems like you. So beautiful.

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is just so loving, so beautifully expressed.

Joanna Jenkins said...

Hello my friend... I just read the last ten of your poems and continue to be amazed the way you are able to string words together so beautifully and so descriptively. Wow.

xo jj

Mama Zen said...

This is flawlessly done and beautifully meditative.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Sublime and Transcendent, and I don't mean that soul act from the 60s. This was perfect. Love, Mosk

ayala said...

Beautiful, I love this !

HermanTurnip said...

Crows and possessed books. These are the things that make life worth living.

lyn lee said...

A deep and delicate poem. Its sweet and at the same time a promise. Hope someone can make me a poem like this.
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Sara said...

As usual -- a delight for my need to read poetry aloud. I loved how you started with the book you want to read and ended with with a book that speaks her name.

But, my favorite lines were these, "so that your hair against my face
becomes a night composed from a million dark wing beats." Oh, that one almost makes me swoon:~)

Helen said...

... 'so that I must reach across your warm bare skin in seeking it ~ the best line of all (for me.)

Anonymous said...

what hedgewitch said!