for Light

An embodiment of God’s serenade

that fireflies in the dread of darkness.

She is that constellation —

God’s calligraphy of beauty on the pages of sky.

There is a temple in the tempo where her voice

is choired on the pinnacle of love;

so that she speaks sun and

wakes up sleeping flowers on my lips.

Just like God printing clouds

on the body of the firmament,

the texture of her skin is laced

with the smoothness of a coffee.

Her gait, carved in the shape

of a step on the paradise,

is graced with the carefulness of a queen’s honor:

She is God’s walking poetry.

She is where God poured his muse.

P.S:  From the birds that sing nature an aubade

        To the zephyr whizzing, water sloshing

        And I who breathe by loving you,

        We are evidence of the immortality of sounds.

*walking poetry culled from Asake’s Basquiat.