Divine

A tangy mistress with hopes like the artist.

Prayer is a painting.

A transcendent wish to  become divine.

 

 

Thoughts

Chased by or chasing, we road-wind into infinity.

These swirl-chants and imagination spirals are a self-note litany.

Sparsely kind, evenly critical, abutting obsessive,  a relentless rehash.

The gentle coach beneath whispers me to steady.

Help me make friends of these restless thoughts.

 

Together Again

My heart saw our spirit first.

She intuited the feel of our feeling.

A soft plane where our hands meet in bended molecule and exchange.

The truffled nibbles of our conversation feast are a chronicle made musical-delicious.

Our aroma soars in humid puffs, to steam the windows blind.

Encased, we huddle and reach through to finally meet.

 

Inner Purpose

Used to the clamor
Used up
And over-used.

The answer is the center
and silent-still wisdom we seek.

 

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Marika Reinke (c) All Rights Reserved 2019