My Eye Was Listening
I was listening and preparing tomorrows with my hand
building cradles for a future earth, soil, seed, flame
a blossoming whole and complete. One degree separated
from we, she, me, be womb-man, needing soul
comfort, natural caressing on me, tongue propagating soul talk
speaking words like Psalms, an Ayat of perfection sliding off open palms.
I wear you like a garment, naked that only your I sees,
your eye been holding testaments and commandments, parting seas,
blowing at the wings of for-get-me-nots and feeding crows on
the path to peace. Shadows reflect on verses colliding, electric, eclectic,
concentric, essence bare and beautiful, my I a hunger.
See… I be searching for you, I be calling to you,
I be making pheromone proclamations, I be praying to your absence.
A million hands have removed my veil to touch my I but my eye
was listening to you before ever knowing you. See…
many have appeared somewhat, even close to, almost the,
but none ever… none ever be We.
(c) A Hannan