Hochstzal 25 Worte

Höchstzal 25 Worte! I hear, I listen, I read, I observe, I sense; there are words flying around everywhere and from everyone including me, at an awesome pace. There are things in life that don’t add up and make a perfect equation, or the equation is correct and we can’t understand the math? I hear the rustle of the leaves outside my door, a coolish Spring wind pushes on the tongue of the tubular chimes to ring softly. Crickets singing in the evening, their drone serving as a rhythmic background to the other sounds of fans whirring in the house, natures soft parade. You are a light that I’d not seen before, though your presence was always there, and when we did meet, your light laid me bare. A soft pale shadow traced a signature sly smile around your slightly parted lips, a greeting of eyes met there; time took its humble bow. During my time of resplendent wonder and love, I suspended all reason in order to pursue an ideal of friendship, expressed as an untethered heart Happiness hovered over their conversation, its essence as pure water, a spring bubbling over in gestures as sublime as a spider’s web bejeweled in dew. At this age, of which I have alighted at time’s behest, I am attempting to throw the shackles of chosen conventions out, for further browsing A thread of lusty exuberance spread across the sky, crackling electric spear-like bolts earthbound, melding soil and soul adjoined in molten union. That svelte black leopard teased out a ‘yes’ from me, her tight look and glassy eyes sparkled so alluringly so guileless, yet smart as pavement. I’ve never see the sky yawn so earnest and ravenously as it approached the dawn, the night sky quickly evaporating into a waning black thread. Listening, the rustle of leaves nervously quacking, winds caress entwining branches, their closeness abandons convention, freeing all frontier, swept clear, cool airs inhabit shady premises. There is that place, that space, that offers a gentle soothing warmth, moist as the tropics, sweet as ocean sugar, hooked on the lip, caught. The skin, the canvas, the block, the stone face, ready for the etch, the brush, the chisel, the needle, vulnerable to the artists peculiar passions.