Honey Globe

In a honey globe at Christmas,
The glitter falling round
Is sweet as apple pectin.
Not a single sound
Is heard. The silence shines,
And slow motion time replays
The sweetness of the passion,
And the glitter stops and stays
Above my eyes, and I can count them.
They number in the millions,
And as they start to fall again,
They dance delicate cotillion
To an 18-16 time,
And the beat is strange and foreign,
But it pulls me into rhyme.

And the poetic nature of the gods
Has drawn me out of fate,
And love inside this honey globe
Has pulled me out of hate,
So now I live.

Yes, now I live.

 

-jenn long