We worship where the world itself

We worship where the world itself
wants to be touched,
it's diamond fever burning up the moon's brilliance
until the rose-entwined morning;
sleep wedding us to the day,
as the sky gods rise above
like the blood of a beautiful dove
sacrificed against implacable altars of evening.

Your hungry heart holds you
suspended between vast pillars of a dream,
where warm constant winds
may drink their fill of a sweet trust,
and where the lingering taste
hides like the petals of flowers at dusk:
the bouquet of night is always near
to those, whose other voice is music.

DanielK.
Very deep, though it takes me couple times to reread your piece... its enjoyable to read!

Pendemic
Such beautiful expression in this remarkable poem. I love the flow of this one. Once again you amaze me with your talent.