The Poet Wishes To Write of Joy

 

Joy is a haiku
Its timing is exquisite
Birdsong in the night.
A heaping of blades of gold
Shining like a haystack
A heartbreak of falcons in flight.
Joy is a reaching, a metaphor
A thread in the needle of desire.
Risking blood in the need to
Hold, daring your heart
To lie on the pyre, a piercing
To the core.
May falcons fill and fire your sight
And hay fields blaze your yearning.