A Whispered BreathA Poem by David ScottReflections of passion in a quiet voice...
In the endless void of all beginning...
The Spirit breathed ~ Across the vastness of unmade galaxies there was a still, small voice. I, made in the same image raise my voice breathing my whisper warm upon an unmade love. Do you answer my call? Doing thus, would we be reborn?
Now, flesh of my flesh as one, bone of my bone all our desires melting, gathered in the clutches of satisfaction blissful pleasure is ours. Not of my creation, lest I appear to boast,
Bounteous joys freely gifted. Should we claim ownership? Are we full of such greedy audacity? Though I hunt the deer upon my land consuming what I claim is mine we both return to dust, this living land remains the basket of our passing. If the flesh passes not beyond the veil, what does it profit to preserve purity? There can be no blasphemy in pleasure. Neither is there vanity nurturing passion. Doth human legacy not ride the crest of passion's waves? Do we not collect our lives upon time's sand spilled shore?
We need not shout our rage striving to live beyond fate's shadow. Expect not loud beating drums or bugled songs heralding our arrival and all to soon departure. Listen to the quiet pulse... Two hearts echoing a whispered legacy ~ Exhaled upon spent, flushing flesh Fulfilled in the climax of our love.
© 2015 David ScottAuthor's Note
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Added on October 8, 2014Last Updated on December 25, 2015 AuthorDavid ScottBrevard, NCAboutMuch like you... Still, I can only ever be to you what you are willing to see of me. This is true of us all. May we learn to see the best in each other. I am happy to be friends with anyon.. more..Writing
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