We speak softly in the night
in hushed tones…
reaching for each other
across mountain mist
Your lilting laughter
is to my ear
the leprechaun’s grail
shining at the end of a rainbow
Alchemy of words, of breathing, of silence,
smoldering, unspoken passion
transforms grail into molten gold
Molten gold spins into fine thread,
fine thread sets adrift on the wind,
adorning the veil of mist between us
The alpha moment of morning breathes deep,
inhaling the mist
untethering itself from its Earthly confines
So too do I rise,
beckoned by slanting, swirling rays
onto a footpath
laid before me by the Ancients
and so,
I walk…
I skip…
I run to you
You,
who knows not how you came
to stand in the soft grass
at the break of an alpha morning
trembling heart and hands outstretched,
whispering, “Come, be embraced.”
Saturday, February 17
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