In the presence of the wild

In the first light of day
when the moon is bleached in soft light
and the stars, day-blinded, wait patiently to shine
I slip under the ivory silent sheet of crispness;
frosted and starched it melts with the verve enclosed.
A veiled smile of thoughts click as a vintage movie
and, the reel ends before the hum of life begins to
drift into the ashen corridors of my mind;
to infiltrate the peace I have found in your voice
that drips as honey upon the lips.
Through early morning brume
a million faces appear
disappear and
loom again
But none is yours
None is yours.
 
They merge into oneness.
 
I have conquered my monsters
only to be faced with my ghosts.
But it is here where
the lush ferns and Lindens grow
in the presence of the wild
that I find sleep
I find love
I find you
I am free