from famine to flood

astonished veins
are bursting
with poems
among the debris
I find a notebook,
sitting on the edge

midnight sparked a flame
and ate through the page,
my first word
was confused and excited
burning to a nova

images of purple dawns
bright green moons
pink trees and yellow blooms.
flood my memory,
these are the shining eyes
of a night walker

reflected in the window
of your black soul.
a skein of feeling
pimples my skin

a crevice
of undiscovered lines
thought dead,
have life and breadth
and now triumphant

I have found my face
by tasting
the cracked salt of tears.
I was 'all but',
I am again.