soling the soul

you stood outside my door for so long

before i let you in; now, for you, i long

to keep you in my embrace, to explore

every aspect of your being, head to toe

i want my nerves to feel your heart beat

on my chest, an unrented bed in long wait;

it was actually due to fear of bed-bugs crawling

to suck blood from a heart that is pumping

but last night the very thought of you

created that most beautiful tempo

for both my peaceful deeper sleep

and nightmare free hike for a poetic soul

© henry victor           21.01.2016      

saw not your face

sabbath is lonely, full of pain

as you take a break to rest

and i saw not your face, even

once, to whisper my love

work days are burdensome

yet, providing a private space

for my shoulders to touch yours

your soul, for my soul to notice

i must let you go today, realize

i, for you to hide your face

from me, for you to retain

your essence for more peace

© henry victor

unpredictable being that becoming

your unpredictability like the wind blowing

where it chooses to blow that i hear, clearly,
the sound on my body but not, plainly, knowing
where it comes, or whither her path would be

increases in my mind the sense of mystery

to surround you and your ways of dealing
in my world making my thought on eternity -
your unchangeableness - i received, a heresy

leaving me to wonder, and wander after you

like Moses journeying alone in Sinai wilderness
for so long before he gets a glimpse
of your being, energy in the burning bush

i, now, drive through the Albertan bush

seeking like Jonah, Jeremiah and Jesus
a restless rest that comes from resting in an endless
ever-expanding being, your unceasing becoming!

 

to embrace another i go

hurry! and get to bed, rest to wake

early in the morning with evening
now gone, and the hand of daughter
to someone from far to take away!

for i now need to adopt another daughter

or may be a son for a change in my mood
and to pass on my books, manuscripts
and present pieces to edit with colour!

also to soon entomb my worthless bones

while archiving, for further study, shards
worked and handed in my tongue
by Fabricius, Rhenius, and Henry Bower!

02.06.2014