Red Wing (a poem)

What was she thinking?

The inner self knew from the start,
could see the beacon
piercing her darkness.

Perhaps best to run,
far and fast
while there is light of day.

Once night comes
and blackness overtakes her
there will be no salvation there.

Or is there?

The Source knows better.
Perhaps a phoenix
is what you were meant to be.

All that passed between us,
all that passed within us,
learning lessons unsought
but necessary.

After all the warmth of bodies,
after the unwrapped hearts,
like two beautiful Christmas presents,
tasted the stars
and sipped the winter sky.

After the waters came down,
baptizing us with yes,
after the passions
broke free from their corrals
and galloped fiercely into the spring that followed.

After the birds began to sing in Boston,
scoring the sweetest film,
while the fears came back
with their insomnia.

After all,
I still believe in the love that took flight
with Red Wings
and danced on the moon.