Message On the Mountain -
Answers were needed, like wind direction,
she could feel him heavy in her heartbeat,
it was a good weight, the kind carelessness brings to capricious carress,
his toe prints still in the trail of beach paths in her fantasy's shores,
were his words an omen of futurity's obsession,
is his face a language for love or lust,
could there be blessings in knowing his total nature,
is he alive as art in her soul, or is he a bore when brought before her banquet,
to the mountain mystic she journeyed with joltings in her guessings,
a Seer who fed the mountains spirit syrup from a collection of wasted wants
spread forth by reused wine bottles, labels changed but all blue from experiences,
the gypsy, to wise to be pretty, and too natural to be ugly
enquired of the woman with youth as a weapon and curiosity as a concern,
"What is the most dangerous thing you've ever done?",
and she replied, 'falling in love', smiling out of embarrassment,
the gypsy smiled too, remembering all that,
after being given the man's name, a simple photo, and a birth date
she stared into Time gone missing, exhaled from a soft stun
and told the inquisitive girl,
"He'll meet you in these mountains,
where gypsies speak of love in cards and legacies in crystals..."
J.A.B.
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