Neruda Blue
*I wrote this several years ago when inspired by a fellow philosopher-poet but thought I’d share.*
The ugliness of the world
had crowded and shrouded me
Until now,
It is swept away by Neruda’s Cuban blue sky
Painted in words
and your sweet arms.
Your words:
Raging, rambling tirades
of emotions and doubts
running over me
draining to the dirty street
off my white flesh
Cleansing me as they
run to the river.
No pretense.
The fear that remains,
Dark remnant of times past,
Seeks to smother
the new light of a winter morning,
The crisp new air
that comes in preparation
of the vernal equinox
and green meadows-
Gone.
Gone in the wake
of your tidal wave,
Your essence that washes
Away
these fears, these pains, these hindrances.
Poetry rises, turns its head
turns on pointe
and is born of me
In this
freedom, this beauty,
and my night sky is as blue
as Neruda’s in Cuba,
in love.