Consecrated Dreams
(A lone voice whispers)
I can always remember the first moment of total bewitchery.
When Love climbed, like an invisible ghost, into the very deep depths of me.
From dark shadows hidden behind Aphrodite's crimson tree.
Because my life changed forever that night with its first delivery.
To be haunted into old age with my first taste of its dark mysteries.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
A poem about first love as a powerful, sacred initiation—a consecration.
A union entwined with depth and feeling but also cursed with memory and haunting.
A haunting where Love is not portrayed as gentle salvation but as an incredible force that reshapes identity forever.
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