Wednesday, May 27, 2009


You stand alone in the morning mist
with just the sound of
the world awakening all around you.
Peacefulness is all you feel
in the dewy pall of night’s bedtime.
The air is still and currently, so are you as well.
Your eyes are closed and you breathe in,
the humid morning filling your lungs
just as she has filled your heart.
Thoughts are clear and are full
of the wonder that nature has displayed before you,
and fate has placed in your heart and hands.
You think of her and her place in your life.
Of how empty it had become before her arrival,
of how she has done a service of love to your soul.
She has delivered to you in a special way,
a love of a pure and saving nature, a lifeline
from your island to her shore.
You have tied it around your waist
and you clutch it dearly, allowing her
to pull you to her loving safety,
to pull you into her, where you
belong and always have.
Her eyes are like beacons,
burning through the morning mist
and bringing her sunshine to warm your soul.
You breathe in this morning mist
which holds the savor of her
and you devour her nourishment,
satisfying and sustaining you.
You are alive with the sense of all that she is.
You listen for the sound of her,
a euphonic sound as simply complex
as the beat of her heart within your own chest.
The dawn appears to escort these mists of morning
away to a place where they may take their rest
and prepare them to return to you every morning.
For they are her.
They surround you, as she surrounds you.
They soothe you, as she does.
They are present, much as she is ever present within you.
You awake from dreams to the morning mist,
not knowing where one ends and the other begins,
not knowing where your love for her ends and where hers
for you begins as well.
They become one and that is all that matters.
Being with her is being alive.
Loving her is being loved.

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