a work in progress

I've been working on this one for a while, but I don't know if I'll ever really finish it, so here's where it's at right now.

For the dancing girl made of flowers;

have your feet known anything but

Brevity beneath them?

You run towards the solitude of the forest,

But your bright smile beckons me to follow.

I have seen the fawns look after you with jealousy,

Your frolicking journey from this life to the next

Makes their prancing look graceless and barren.

You are more daring than the leaping grasshopper

And yet more resilient than the grass on which they land.

Your laughter is like church bells.

It reaches the rafters of every room

And makes me believe for just a moment

There might be something greater,

Because who of this earth,

Could have written that song?

But when you hear that ringing tune of yours,

The one you make with both lungs full,

Outshining any and all altar boys nearby,

Do you think wedding or funeral?

I know when you are in that same church,

You sing louder than any of those old women that sneer,

Because you have half the wrinkles but twice the wisdom of any of them.

Your moonstone eyes outshine any streetlight we stand beneath.

Have you noticed that when we walk through the park, 

The flowers that were once wilted and shriveled,

Begin to bloom again under your gaze?

Do you mean for that to happen,

Or is it just another way

You drop beauty where you step?

You have given me only so many questions, and even fewer answers.

They scatter like stepping stones beneath my feet,

Leading me either in or out of the garden

Of all you've ever been or will be.

And I'm still not sure which direction you intend me to go.

Maybe I am just another one of those wilted flowers,

Only beautiful again for the moment I am with you.

Neither of us may ever know.

But I know that when you touch me

And hold my face between your gentle palms,

Time stops existing, however briefly,

And the fruit that is our love,

For just a moment, stays eternally ripe.

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

i wouldn't change a thing, Brina! not one thing .. i think you have a gift that is far more than what you think it is ... i say it again .. i am amazed that you have only just begun to write poetry .. the mystery of the dancing girl ..so much to like in this poem .. thanks for sharing and ...welcome to the Cafe' .. so glad to have met you ... hope to see you around regularly ... peace and joy!
E.