MY WONDROUS WORLD

My walls
are filled
with miles
of moon-bathed
dream smiles
that embrace me
dawn through dusk.

My doorways
with wall-to-wall whispers
of silent footsteps
that walk with me
sooner or later.

Her rhythm,
like the phases
of the moon
or the truth
of tides,
is a labyrinth
of subtleties
imprinted
on my memory
like an unfinished story
that writes itself.

Though
only a brief sunbeam
shimmering
in the warmth
of fused destinies,
the inner light
of the energy
she fashioned
fashions me.

Ever the voice
of a single
Siamese soul
floating
beneath words
wound round
with poetry,
the love she molded
molded me
from the depth
of a heart
to the heart
of perpetual adoration.

Such
is the nature
of my wondrous world
too soundless to hear
by anyone
but me.

© JOHN PISCATELLA