Five Psalms of Jonathan to David

Your sunburned fingers that thrum my enthralled heart 
In the dark ember of this desert night
Flatter the harp to soothe the nightmares of a daylight glittering king.

Your brawny, sighing throat that rouses my rapt soul
With its honeyed low moans
Sings canticles to the Mystery of Creation.

Your scent of new lambs, of sand, of sage, of wood, of leather, of blood, of stars,
Incites astonished galaxies of atoms in the stellar nursery of my spirit,
Igniting me with your music!

Oh, to be a constellation together with you!
Of Jonathan-and-David,
Of David-and-Jonathan;
To be a joint incandescence in the blue-black arch of space,
To be a sparkling star chart for sailors in their surging ships,
To be a source of comfort and awe for wanderers in the desert,
To be a revelation for dancing shepherd-poets,
To be intermingled with you throughout the grand span of ancient time,
To be a band of blended, fragrant stars upon the prow of earth,
A standard carried before legions 
And revered as an absolute truth 
That teaches the world belonging-to-belonging.

I kiss your hair, dark with olives and pomegranates and the smoke of campfires;
I kiss your brow, copper and good and crown-ready;
I kiss your eyes; my lips see you there in my princely robe, the most beautiful you;
My lips see me there, discovered, the most beautiful me;
I kiss your nose and your cheeks with three hummingbird kisses
And float upon the upwelling heat of our shimmering hills.

Ah, and there are your lips!  
Should I kiss them, or should I worship them only in my imagination?
These familiar paradises that restore me,
These sheltered valleys where I contentedly roam.
Ah, and there are your lips!

The headlong rush of star to star,
The desperate, clinging gravity of atom to atom,
The urge of blood to blood, pulse to pulse, follicle to follicle,
The musky sliding of leather upon viscous sweat,
The immense eruption of sunspots, the joy of heat,
The disheveled violence of never-letting-go.

Beloved shepherd, favorite of princes, treasure of kings, voice of God,
Sing aloud the song my heart enchants solely and softly to yours.
Sling the stone of shattering sunlight to split the lowering eclipse
	of threatening shadow.
Behead the giant foe, those fears that would seep into our dreams
	and poison our dearest hopes.

Hide with me here a little longer in this cradling manger. 
Remain with me in the humid gravity of our embrace;
Your wool is warmer and softer than a lamb's.
Silk will wait; the shepherd's cloak's enough for now.
Let hearts be thrones; let brotherhood be a palace.
The slow curl-and-coil of our shifting sand-dune bodies
Is persuaded by the same primordial pull as the spiraling of the stars,
The very same unbearable desire to be charmed together.
Stay with me in silence a little longer, beloved shepherd.

Silence.

Starlight.

Immensity.

Warmth.

Silence.  Silence.  Silence.