Swaying tendrils of earthly plants
reach their yet unopened buds toward the glowing orb of the moon.
Our shared moon – image of our reflected souls.
Yearning – to see, to touch, to know.
Dearest friend of mine, as yet you are intermittent.
Your presence envelops me yet does not.
You are not here. I am not there.
Does it matter which?
We are not together and we are yet to be. Defined.
Our souls search for each other in the light of dreams,
Our words pool in each other’s hearts,
Creating a special home, an abode of dreams, wishes, belief.
In love. We hold to hope, because in love, we are strong.
Our words, being wings, fly us to each other,
on the ether of our dreams.
Crossing distance and space, running across the
studded milkiness of the night sky,
Our souls free their bonds and mingle for a brief embrace
under the soft, blue, thoughtful eye of the moon.
She cares, feeds our brief freedom,
before her light fades in the encroaching stark glow
of the morning sun.
Stark because my spirit flees the harsh morning light
to re-enter and restore my mind to jumbled dreams
before I awake, alone, almost surprised,
that having felt so close to you when asleep,
Why are you not still here in the circle of my arms?
Shake my head, the feeling is gone. Disquiet.
You visited me in the ether of my dreams?
Perhaps … I yearn to know you…
Is it all a dream?
© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)
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| Bubbles © Jennifer Phillips |
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