He

His presence haunts my soul,
like the quiet that consumes a deaf man's ears
or the warmth that blankets a long summer's night.

His voice; a mellifluous, melodious, melody of sound
that reverberates in my ears.

Does he know his perfection? Does he even notice it-hanging
about him like a ripened apple just waiting to be plucked.

He is everything extraordinary about man.
He is brilliance personified.

Does he know his beauty? Does he even recognize it-striking
like a bed of dandelions dancing in the spring, just dying to be seen.

He is an intricately woven human tapestry.
He is both art & life.

But, to me, he is simply he.

by Niealie Petit

Comments (2)

'Every day so lovely, shining, up and down, the Sultan’s daughter walked at evening by the water, where the white fountain splashes.' the walk of life, love, or a beautiful walk by the water, 'the Sultan’s daughter' is the object of the gaze, the beloved; the slave is dying in not slavery but love
The character of Asra in Penelope Fitzgerald's novel Human Voices is based on this poem.