the bus-stop...connecting again.

Those strands of brown-flecked hair, that presence never barely there

The full woman before my eye

Moonshine illumination for those that are blind

And there i sit, learning again, how to love and be received

What to sieve, that there is nothing to withhold

And everything to give.

 

So we sit

My fingers brush beautiful hair

They settle and rest beneath her ear

I just want her to hear

My heart and me

Beat in tune

For her

We make it happen again

The magic, rain, alchemy, 52 and all other numbers

The    bunking of the soul

Inner leading to outer

New places for ancient water.

 

   So we sit

My fingers brush beautiful hair

They settle and rest beneath her ear

I just want her to hear

My heart and me

Beat in tune

For her

 

And when she leaves I watch her go

I am not sad or fed up

I am perfectly content to see her free

She is teaching me how to love

Completely free of the unfounded need

And ungrounded me.

So we sit

My fingers brush beautiful hair

They settle and rest beneath her ear

I just want her to hear

My heart and me

Beat in tune

For her.