Father, son, oh, spirit rising,
living somewhere in between
the generations of a life;
the feel of femininity
surrounds the sound
of pure emotion crying out.
And so he moved,
when for so long
all movement seemed impossible;
to lose himself within the mists
of independent fantasy,
that lived to breathe the dream,
and only this.
Where muses sang of flowing
softly sifting through the sandy shores;
and all that was most feminine in him
did the same, in ever-changing ways;
in depth of meaning so insatiable
it seemed its motion
must not have an end.
He began again to feel
a sense of innocent adventure
that took him to a place
where all beginnings found a space
and place to nurture
every seed of living form.
And father figures turned
to adoration newly born
within their seeds of creativity;
just where the core of femininity
awaits one great awakening
of form . . .
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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