As I've mentioned before, I've been influenced in recent years by my studies in Eastern spiritual philosophy. I think this poem can be read different ways, but for me, the passion becomes a spiritual one, so I have titled this poem The Master.
The Master
Crystals dance on tiptoe spires
Winter grass with frost adorned
Pinprick skin by the fire
And you, in wool wrapped warmth
A heart of lava glowing
Simmer steamy eyes
My coat with melting snowflakes
In heap of dampness lies
"Are you warm?" you whisper
Shifting golden coals
A distant dream my shivers
The death of crippling cold
I touch your face
My hands embrace
Your ancient blazing soul
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