how poems are born (this one's for you Theodore)

on the day God recognized Herself
She started writing Poetry again,
(and so Poetry is reborn in the
Presence of the present)
Her astonishment rises with the sun
and sets on no-one

but you see,
Theodore, my Beloved Sufi,
life is a Poem
and that falling leaf is shrine
about to break our hearts

shattered, shattering
into what can never
be written down, no matter
how many poems I write
no matter how many lives I live

the edge of reality meets in the
humble words of every Poem
as it moves your eyes across
the universe
from I to Thou.

strangers no more
adrift in our Aloneness
on the lifeboat called Poetry.