Friday, April 17, 2009

Sherman's pulse



Image found at Flicker.

Sherman noel, what a story you tell -
with dancing feet and eyes that weep,
as deep as a well.

Weary hearts will seek and find you.
Looking for something to fill the space;
of loneliness, of discontent, of wandering time and space.

Sherman knows me well, and my face can tell-
of the people I meet on that dreary street
long as a swell.

Rolling over and reaching out,
arms embrace and wave about.
A wake, a dance and comforts race
to remember a gentle face.

Sherman reminds me well; of the sadness and hell.
That could be erased, never come to this place
covered in love's deep swell.

Rising up and flowing over,
hearts connect and beat as one.
Awake in sync and pounding in life's rhythm and breathing undone.

Wrap your arms around me.
Dance your feet too close.
Lift my heavy spirit,
with your presence, your patience and your pulse.

Wrap your arms around me.
Dance your feet too close.
Push towards my grieving spirit,
with your presence, your patience and your pulse.

In this place of weeping, I need to feel your pulse.
I need to feel a pulse.

T.L. Eastman 09'

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