I am looking for the perfect pasture,
A place to put my thoughts of lust and rapture.
A place where the blood can flow freely.
Where you can be you and I can be me.
To transcend what our mortal bodies comprehend.
Feel this time sliding off my bones,
and seeping through my pores.
Cue the wind, to shake these moors.
I have to put all these thoughts to pasture….
so I will no longer,
ruminate upon the rapture.
There is electric color here.
I’ll lift it up so you can feel.
This rainbow that will shine when the sun is done,
this time that can exist for no one.
I will try to put these thoughts to pasture,
and focus on the coming rapture.
It is not so easy to see the humming divinity.
Yet, when I close my eyes and touch,
it is there, in your skin.
Emblazoned within.
A feeling that has become too much…
I can no longer hold it, for it has grown past me.
I can no longer feel it, for this is how it has to be.
So I will put it out to pasture,
this beautiful dance of you and me.


-Rachel Peacock

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