All Posts By: Byron McCoy

               “Art is the conversation between lovers.  Art offers an opening for the heart.  True art makes the divine silence in the soul break into applause.”—Hafez _____                They walked together in the open blue, winter sky of silver sun whose light reflected white over lawn and spread of snow.  Upon the trails, footsteps showed, […]

               It was love language that they shared—the songs they played and loved, words and tones and melodies that returned them into memories, imaginings and dreams, and, too, into acute and attune of intimate’s present.                Warm spell came and lived in the week.  It melted snow and erased the last of ice made of […]

               “Deal me in, deal me out, pick me out of a crowd.  In the dark, all alone, I’ll go anywhere but home…” _____                Winter moon shone bright and full in the cloudless winter night.  Around its silver-white, cold in winter clear, aurora halo shone in reach and cast of further radiance, far limit […]

               “This is what I want to do,” he spoke.  “Live and write romances and let life take care of rest.”                She knew he meant it.                 “It’s a beautiful way of fictions,” she answered wishing it could live and last as more.                 “Maybe it could be real,” he spoke looking out on […]

               “We would tire of it eventually,” he spoke.                “We would?” she asked, incredulous of his belief.                “We would,” he elaborated, “…if physical is all it is, only of the flesh.”                She never felt or thought it that.  She knew that it was more.                “And what if it is spirit?” she […]

               Each new day brought growing light, longer time and last of day.  In the bright of greater light, their love remained and made; unhidden, unsaved for only dark of night.                In high of sun, he lain with her on floor before the hearth, gentle of touch and finger’s trace to her open body […]