come from darkness. I.
my father is silence and
my mother is contemplation. and that love
makes my body verses of poetry
read by a sheet of
fate leaf carved with my name
when the night secretly
steals paradise wine
and drinks it down
then goes home naked even though the spiders of the tropical hills
have offered their webs
as clothing, as warmth.
oh, always come
from darkness. I.
son of silence,
son of contemplation.
and sadnesses are
a bowl of cherries placed
on a tray of birthday cakes
when the arms of the weekend
manage to part
the black clouds and
ask the crows
to sing a song
of birth introduction.
I;
my father is silence
my mother is contemplation
and my house of worship
death.