Empty Hand So Welcoming

When she came to me that night
upon the death of her counting down
freed of fear and appetite
I gave her what she wanted.

There was nothing to say so
nothing was said and again
nothing was just right to know
the correct amount to spend.

le bon rien sans espoir
la main vide si bienveillante
good nothing hopeless
empty hand so welcoming.

The arms I offered empty as
a bushel basket full of those
expectations pre-supposed and
traded away like Jack’s beans.

Come into my generous palm
cut my luminous light to a whisper
wash my sky and my eyes in
the closing moments of wishing.

le bon rien sans espoir
la main vide si bienveillante
good nothing hopeless
empty hand so welcoming.

Life expects an end at the end
of many fond beginnings until
the middle turns that on its fair head
and the unsaid is settled.

le bon rien sans espoir
la main vide si bienveillante
good nothing hopeless
empty hand so welcoming.

Advertisements

About mrsorenson

all over the place
This entry was posted in love, poem, poetry, song and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s