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The sotto voce of my longing
Catches in my hearts' throat
Lingering precipitously
Violet , magenta and cobalt
Tinting the language to come
An interval, a meeting
A chance encounter,
Wild birds resting momentarily
From weary flight.
Limbs ache with the need for respite.
Tentative fingers extend to touch
Trying to grasp nebulous light beams
Hope steaming like strong hot coffee
Yearning for reciprocal joy
Soul wide open, a garden gate sprung.
Birds startle and burst into wings beating
Hearts thumping, futile
Destinations not meant for me
Fingertips failing
Hope rescinded, a snail withdrawing, embarrassed.
For one crystallized, brilliant perfect minute
I was lost
In a sweet place.
But still lost
Nonetheless.
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