Archives for posts with tag: tears

Love’s Identity

Love is the wonder
that crosses your face
when you gaze
at a blooming vine
in your garden,
under the neapolitan skies
of an evening hour.

Love speaks
through the words
of an advertisement
that catches your notice
on an ordinary evening
as you check your email,

But Love is bigger than that,
and even you would not deny it—
though it seems an awkward stranger,
like a friend who is gradually lost
to distance of one sort or another.

Love knew you
before you knew Love;
before you knew anything at all.

Reminders such as this
catch your breath in your throat
and you push back your chair
in resistance, tears concealed
behind your beautiful hands.

Love stands sentinel,
only waiting for you.

Claire Juno, © 2017




We are on the skin of a sphere,
and we are everywhere,
but we cannot jump the chasm
that separates us from other selves
and possibilities.

We build a bridge doused with tears
and run across before it burns up
with our mortal steps.

We stack our worlds on top of worlds,
our clothes press our dimensions
together, weighing our hearts
with the sense of something
just outside our perimeter.

Tempting us, calling us
to put our energies in concert
and tunnel our way through
to something new and familiar—
a second skin, a second self—
send out the canaries first
and follow their song.

Claire Juno, © 2012

…for my father