Something's coming, in the wind.
Listen to the spirits sing.
Just before the screams begin.
Their pain became too much.
And there, the sureness of a touch
upon your well-worn, earthen skin.
Too real to be imagination.
As if concealed in a hyphenation.
Neither here nor there, but in between.

Someone's sighing. Whispering.
Of long lost joys that life can bring.
An elongation of remembering.
Lying in a field of wild flowers.
In a lazy haze of summer days
containing more than hours.
Wandering in great imaginings.
Moments stretched into eternity.
Within the mind, an inner eye can see
and witness all eternity.

Soft and cool. The touch of wind on skin.
Overheated by a higher need.
Rays converging. Powers turning
nothing much into the everything.
A touch of love. Heart overflowing.
Burning with desire once withheld.
A hint of moisture in the air,
beheld within a rainbow's glistening.
And here we go, remembering again...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .