Rebirth of Flesh

The sound of honeysuckle
growing on a vine.
Listen to a tone
of beauty blooming -
within a scent
of sight's enlightenment.

Sensuous and so inviting,
permeating every breath we take;
slowing down the world we once knew.
Teasingly inviting us,
within an inspiration,
to drift into an air of everything.

Senses moving in a steamy dream,
surrealistically compounding
every touch within a mood
that simply has to be
the feel of all divinity itself
in exposition.

Moisture clings to leaves and stems
abounding in an innocence of clarity;
catching moonbeams trailing out
in spirals through this night
that never ends.

Oh sinner, now the time has come
to make amends for all your chastity;
as particle by particle your mind insists
on blending into everything that is -
within this bliss, so heavenly,
it takes all breath away.

Yet still we move upon a course
preset before all time began
as innocence began to know itself
within the freedom of containment;
while finally shed, the womb becomes
a freedom never found before.

Within a sense
of pure exuberance
rebirth of flesh -
its one and only destiny . . .


Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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