Past and Present Perfections

Your comings of love

were perfections

unto my world.

They had their time,

and in their

setting aside,

no longer

intone aloud

their fluid rhythms as

flower garlands

made beautiful

with blossoms

of vitality and dance.

Only the embracing

of my loving

of you

is held in any

seeming death

of time.

For in truth,

the reverie

of that spirit

continues dance

all around me,

alive and well

and even now.