Poetry / The Map of Morning

In these private moments
before dawn breaks, blazing
across the dewdrop morning,
I listen to ocean sounds and
breathe the air of a new day born
across the quiet surface of the sea,

…and I close my eyes while

remembering the way your salty tears
silently kissed my honey hair,
the way your breath bathed my skin
in the warmth of a thousands suns,
orbiting my nights like the moon
circles its spinning earth;

I sensed your sanctity, the peace drawn
upon the misty veil of your aura.

You brought me the universe,
held carefully in the palm of your hands,
and I marveled at how small it was
in comparison to what we shared,
as I brewed coffee and you sat quietly
in a bed that was our private Eden, and
watched my form as though it were a statue,
all delicate angles and soft crevices,

that your mindful hands had molded
and your heart had given breath…

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