I follow your gaze into midnight’s soulful skies.
Why is it time always stands still when I am next to you?
The dipper hangs suspended above us,
much as my thoughts do while listening as you
carefully point out the many celestial bodies,
the names slipping from your tongue with such ease,
as if they were your intimate friends.
The very moon seems to acknowledge
your presence in ways I never noticed before.
Shadows follow you more closely than most,
under the fullness of the harvest moon.
Cricket’s song is more vibrant than usual tonight,
as yonder owl winks in recognition.
“Step softly over the stones,” you whisper.
“Do not let your footfall disturb the movement
of the scurrying lizards.”
The soft mournful cry of a loon greets us from a nearby lake,
and echoes deep within my throat.
The rhythms of nature and the heartbeat of the ancients
fill the night air with a calm acceptance
of the continual rites of love’s passage
an unfolding of the essence of life.
Wrapped in anticipation,
cloaked only in a passionate resolve
to make every moment count,
I lift my face to receive
your warm moist breath of life,
and falling starlight surrounds us
as we fall down upon the soft grasses,
enfolding one another.
The stroke of your hand upon my throbbing body
awakens a sleeping passion, too long hidden
under layers of self-imposed exile.
to be continued…