Sitting in Michael's Lap
As Death, the sky, and copious the moon,
Upon the night which found my thoughts adrift
On hush'ed winds. The silence held in swoon
My frenzied soul – I felt my troubles lift,
If only for a moment. While I gazed,
Enraptured, at the jeweled drape of sky,
A fierce longing in my bosom blazed;
I knew not whence it came nor even why.
I felt, upon my face, a gentle sigh --
So warm, the breath – intangible caress
That lingered on my cheek. My seeking eye
Found nothing, though – and Night would not confess
Her secrets. I was strangely unconcerned,
Although I knew the spectre lingered near:
His breath had only stoked the flame that burned
Within me. Floating softly to my ear,
A tender whisper tingled, feather-light;
Its promise was of honey and of wine --
With silver tongue, and shivers of delight,
It claimed the will that once I thought was mine.
Against my back I felt his body pressed,
And arms about my waist to pull me near;
While sighing breaths and pounding heart confessed
My passion so that even he might hear.
Transformed into the flame by his embrace,
I felt a heat my heart had never known –
I needed not to look upon his face
To know his longing echoed with my own.
His hands were butterflies upon my arms,
The linger of his lips, a searing bliss:
And I, the willing captive of his charms,
Was bound as sure as iron by his kiss.
But oh! So kind a captor never breathed
As he whose warm exhale bestirred my hair!
And nevermore has such desire seethed
Within my breast as when I felt him there.
When, with the dawn, my lover did depart,
His kisses warm and wistful on my face,
I bid a fond adieu to stolen heart,
And hung a quiet nothing in its place.
For never shall I find the equal of
My phantom paramour, whose name is Love.
You cannot choose the way of your death, but the path you choose will determine its own end.