Kamenets-Podilsky

I am here. that is all I can promise in the moment.
but patience is a virtue worth developing and
although I have failed as oft as succeeded, it is needed
enough that the midwife of necessity lingers.

let the dancers dancers, the artists create, the singers?
let them have their way with the words of poets,
so much so that they become a meme of themes remembered,
a sound of thunder that plunders our emotions.

I am here. pondering revelation and silence. the pain
of those who fear the inherent nobility of transcendence,
the kiss of thought upon thought that makes hot and taut
bodies, even at a distance, the persistence of passion.

let the dreamers dream, the thinkers think, the teachers?
let them reach down deep and give of their own wisdom a drink,
wet with memory. cold with logic. sweet with the touch of a lover.
end the artifice of the line between sacraments of love and god.

I am here. sitting like a fisherman, head bowed, eyes closed,
concentrating on the filament that will communicate the temptation
for which I would gladly throw myself into an ocean depth for.
I am not the captor, but the captured. purified by your wish.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.