Without Fanfare
Without
all the fanfare, I love you.
I
hover over you like fog.
Don’t
be afraid, the moon is descending.
And
furthermore the mountains are turning
into
witnesses.
Without
further ado, I love you.
I
don’t put on any airs.
The
moon is descending
And
you are making valleys
out
of mountains, and mountains out of love.
I
love you without thinking.
It’s
like getting dressed in the morning.
The
moon is descending
And
the sound of love echoes in the valleys.
And
I hover over you like a mother.
The
moon is descending
and
the mountains blush, the valleys are
breathless-- they witness
our
love.
Holding the Sky
My
anger bellows.
Showers
pound the ground.
And
then it ends.
Gone.
Why
on you?
Because
you’re in reach.
You
flash like lightning
after
my rage.
My
thunder may frighten.
Not
you.
You
bend,
take
me in your arms
the
way a rainbow holds the sky.
-- Marjorie Sadin
These poems had appeared in Bewildering Times.
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