Copy Imagein your light, had I learned to love, herein your beauty, could I speakknowing of this space close withinas the breath held inside a garden rose, there—there is no time
John Daniel Thieme
-
-
Copy Image
To forget would mean the things we never knewhad never waited to be known, never waitedto be forgotten, had never been; waitingbeneath the long dead starsin time
-
Copy Image
Thisis not the same river at my fingertips. There are no paths, no sunken roadsfamiliar in the forest, by which we canretrace our steps, by which we can escapeby which we can reclaim and return, or hear the child’s song running in the timothy
-
Copy Image
I wish to go down under the waters—the cool, crystalline waters that I knew, where allthat is, here, existing, isis only to be lost within the susurrationsand the rumours of water and the evening starwe wait for
-
Copy Image
the sorrows of the heart yearn to be erased, for one final atonementfinite and forgetting and whole—but time in its preservingwill not permit forgetting; destroyingonly when we can no longer begor argue with time to preserve the brief benisonsa few moments longer than our sins