sometimes.. home

a poem by Dale Costello, Australia - poetry writer, author, poet

as his lyrics lay over me
like poetry
like a beautiful messenger
in the midst of humanity
I can feel my bones let go

of that ache
that I barely know
my mind lulled
of the noise pure blown
the antithesis of thinking
his voice just drinking

down my soul
and I know a place called home

has a nice bell on its door
my friends arrive
and we listen some more
to love post-prophesy

and all we don't have to be
conversation evolving
Sherlock Holmes' mother solving
another mystery
a plummeting star
calling the falling history'

the gaps that fold
into a single place called home

gathering in a corner of eternity
a wisp of smoke
rising from a brick chimney
in a forest untouched

a hand held against the hushed
words as they burn
all that Earth can learn
through a single species
of night as she breathes

in a breath we can't hold
except for the silence of our souls..

I write poetry for the trees
leave my words
alone on the breeze
never to be spoken again

light in the rain
as it caresses my lips
the art of true partnership
heart forever unbroken
and sealed by a kiss

in a silent place called my soul
shared with an Earth I call home

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