The Open Door
and lets me trace the pattern of flowers –
as a beloved’s face beneath my eager fingers,
I hear the tiny tick of hummingbird time caught in mosaic flight,
And feel my tongue tingle with bee-churned honey on fresh baked bread like a sweet kiss.
At night the moon waits at the keyhole to cloak me in a silver veil
and lead me to the star tossed sea,
then with a skyclad rising,
the mist brings soft quiet to the senses before the orchestra of dawn
The star tossed sea
I have a portal I pass through
Where I see and taste and touch the wind
and watch the trees dancing in the grove as they converse
in roaring whispers
and skate through like Jack Frost glass
to see the snow fall softly on our little country road
where dreams and unicorns lie hidden behind the hedgerows
2 Comments Add yours
Are there a million stars where you are, dune mouse? It seems like there are. Where we are we can experience but a few, the lights are so bright in the cities. I envy your place in this world, it has to be really lovely.
It certainly is lovely, but we are really on the outskirts of the city so we do get some light pollution as well!