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Motion wandering aimless with tender images,
shifting perception seeming to know the passages.
In this intimate trust of this sanctuary being all fair,
fields of flowers painting the landscape so bare.
The road between felt like a Camino of sensation,
moonlight during day in gentle hues of motion.
Taking me to the windmill of slow gesture,
sensing that I have been here before for sure.
Coffee and biscuits on the stoop table prepared,
no one here and I am thirsty and so dared.
The coffee just perfect with foamed milk,
those cookies melted dunking like chocolate silk.
Pondering the reality about in this dream,
created by love compassion the perfect seem.
Is that some melody of love that swells through?
or is my mind absorbed by a particular pursue.
Some truth without form and wave of stillness,
the modesty of a sacred river that I witness.
The seeming mystery gives birth to remember,
whispers of joy and sleepless soul splendor.
Revealing the lovers secret by image kind,
echoes of dreams and plural of the mind.
I hear the kettle blowing from another world,
the smell of coffee through the air gently whirled.
And there you are holding the immortality of love,
and the chemistry of the heart thereof.

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