30 Wednesday Aug 2017
Tags
bliss, breath, love, seasons, the first kiss, the last kiss, time, times between
how seldom this
the beautiful
from which I beg release
nights to nurse
the darkness
without shame
whispers
started long ago
secrets let me tell
about the boy –
I dare not speak his name
or suffer bliss
a moment more
than death will take
of me
warmth to ease
the restlessness between
our first kiss
and forever –
illusion of a sort
lessons –
lest I wonder still
what of all love means
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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… once, holding hands can be the simple reason for being.
Though perhaps a bit ‘hallmark’ (in a weebie weebie sort of way)…….I am reminded of a quote from a long-ago read –
“It’s clear to me now that I have been moving toward you and you toward me for a long time. Though neither of us was aware of the other before we met, there was a kind of mindless certainty bumming blithely along beneath our ignorance that ensured we would come together. Like two solitary birds flying the great prairies by celestial reckoning, all of these years and lifetimes we have been moving toward one another.”
It’s is a miracles, is it not?
Divine remembering….
“lest I wonder still
what of all love means”…
…….God holds this secret tightly in his hands, lest we mortals begin to think we know the answer. Goodnight country girl …………………………………….xo
My dear one, I think it is a secret He holds within us………..