Honeyed Remembrance

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Your memories gleam - a lucid bright,

Like honey held in tempered light;

They rise within the hush of morn

And gild the hours newly born.


In silver currents, slow and deep,

They thread the chambers where I sleep;

They fill the chalice of my soul

Beyond all boundary or control.


They overflow the tender brim

Into my heart’s receptive dim;

A drop - then one more, soft and slow -

Falls lighter than love’s undertow.


And where they rest, they bloom and shine

In petals steeped in amber wine;

They linger on my waiting tongue

Like sacred hymns still left unsung -

A sweetness veiled, a secret fire,

At once fulfillment and desire.


My eyes grow heavy with their dew,

As though they drink the shade of you;

A quiet warmth begins to rise,

A living flame behind my eyes.


The world beyond may surge and roar

Like restless tides along the shore,

Yet here the air is hushed and sweet,

With honeyed stillness at my feet.


You are the salt, you are the bread,

The silver thread through all I’ve led;

Like ink that sinks into the page,

Or wisdom ripened out of age,

You’ve entered marrow, vein, and core

Until I am myself no more.


The dream map I bore, worn thin and old,

Falls silent now in whirl pools of golden sea;

A feather brush  shaped of warmth and flame

Rewrites the horizon of my name.


I do not fear the rising tide,

With nowhere left in me to hide;

My footing falters and shiver- yet I stand,

Made steady by your unseen hand.


So now I move with softened grace and courage

Through each unfolding hour and space;

A quiet smile upon my face,

Held captive in your deep embrace.


A willing prisoner, I remain -

Yet freed from every former chain;

For drowning in this golden sea,

I lose myself - and come to be.

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