Ideas, as earth hugged seeds, were ensconced in those brown eyes. She knew it was winter. She knew to content their embryos with a dreaming slumber, restless though they were. For any patient observer, for any heart who cared to see, this was an obviousness beyond dispute. Any spring, any warm and rising sun, would bring the most explosive transformation. My lungs filled to maximum. My pulse sang in accelerated beats. With a soft smile she broke our gaze and, with a skip, did part. I was lost and found. That beginning can’t be our end. Surely destiny and fate are weaving a story of weighty worth.
Beneath an expanse of blue, rose a pathway snug to the meadowland. Birdsong notes danced from the trees, then into stepping stones grew. At first I watched them hover, defying gravity. Then, up them my wildest dreams did leap with me following close behind. Up, up, up! To the disco poet’s loft!
The dreamy poetess had a way of speaking in words that could connect to the soul, to shine light within and heal.
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