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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476857" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sit Warmly Here With Me Awhile</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sit warmly here with me awhile <br>and I will smother you in fireflies <br>until your aura looks like <br>a dandelion constellation<br>or a globular cluster of first magnitude stars. <br>My scars have exhumed the knives of old wounds. <br>And though I confide in the void <br>like an echo returning to its own voice <br>or a breath to the sacred groves of the lungs at sunset<br>and superseded my quota of regrets<br>to make an expandable universe liveable <br>every firefly of insight's <br>got the engine of a dragon behind it<br>and it burns like a dark clarity within me.<br>Wrap your silence and mystery around me <br>like a chrysalis or cloak <br>and let me rest in your indivisibility awhile<br>until I disappear deep in your eyes <br>like a nightbird into its longing. <br>Let me sit around the lonely fire of your heart <br>as if I were the only house of the zodiac <br>who comes to you like an illicit love affair <br>with its lights still on <br>long after all the others have gone out.<br>My solitude is bruised by an abyss <br>that keeps digging deeper into me <br>and sometimes it feels as if <br>it's looking for water and a well <br>and then other times it's a midnight burial <br>of someone I can only catch a glimpse of <br>once and a while under a full moon <br>that looks like an undertaker <br>through the leafless veils of the weeping willows<br>digging his own grave <br>but feels just like a spade hitting my skull<br>like a strange form of paydirt<br>buried like the black pearl of the new moon <br>in a hope chest of star mud.<br>Take the coin from under my tongue <br>like the last sacred syllable <br>of my unconditional humanity<br>and throw it down this black hole in my heart <br>like the moon in a wishing well <br>and embrace me as if I were not dead awhile. <br>Out of the ashes the smoke and the flames<br>like two candles under the stars <br>let's make up myths of origin<br>where the gods have no names <br>until the wildflowers that have outgrown <br>the gates of the Garden of Eden <br>look back at where they come from<br>like a long way away <br>and give them one <br>like the elders of an Ojibway tribe<br>decide on the names of the new born <br>each according to the totem of a dream.<br>Pull this thorn from my eye<br>like the eyelash of the last crescent of the moon <br>and let me see you face to face<br>without a thousand and one tears between us. <br>I shall glorify you like a mosque in lapis lazuli <br>that can no more contain your image<br>than the day the night <br>or one constellation <br>the whole of the Milky Way. <br>I shall paint your portrait in picture-music <br>like the moon reflected on the black water gardens <br>of the Taj Mahal in mystic hues <br>of nocturnal waterlilies and cobalt blues <br>to highlight your eyelids when you sleep <br>and on your lips rose drops of blood <br>to wake you like a kiss from your dream<br>when the waterbirds rise from the lake. <br>Receive me like a sword into your depths <br>I throw in tribute from a bridge that crosses over <br>to the other side of myself <br>as if you were the far shore of my mindstream<br>come near to sit with me here awhile<br>and reminisce like water <br>on the things that have been and passed<br>as we listen to the tender laughter of the waves. <br>I will lift up my shirt <br>and show you the scars of all the holy wars <br>I've fought with myself like a faithful heretic <br>who knew he was doomed to lose <br>and the spots where the spearheads of insight <br>penetrated my heart like a voodoo doll <br>baptized in hot whiskey and cold blood <br>to take a message to the gods <br>about human suffering <br>in a language they could understand<br>wasn't just the echo of their own voices.<br>Sit with me here awhile like a face beside a mirror <br>looking out upon the same starfields <br>without a trace of our own reflections in the view <br>and I will teach you <br>the healing powers of a wounded mouth<br>like the secret grammar of a grail that seeks itself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476857" data-title="Sit Warmly Here With Me Awhile de Patrick White" data-description="Sit warmly here with me awhile 
and I will smother you in fireflies 
until your aura looks like 
a dandelion constellation
or a globular cluster of first magnitude stars. 
My scars have exhumed the knives of old wounds. 
And though I confide in th..."></div>
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