yeah!...3 day weekend... love my job!... time for a little morning hot tub action -- feel the bubble, bubble love.. another beautiful day in LaLa paradise... now, time for coffee & a few words for the day
I can see
through a door
just barely open,
the light shift across
your dream darkened face.
I can hear
through walls,
around corners of waiting,
your whispers like moths
as they flee shadowed space.
I can feel
through moments
and years of unknowing
your fluttering heart
find its rhythm and pace.
All of this
while you are
nowhere near.
...........................
if you see me
across the distance
of smoke filled shadows
and red glassed candles
let me know
if you hear my name
beneath the booming bass
and tin drum guitars
of juke box memories,
please
please
whisper it like a gift
through the din
into my silent heart
.................................
only a few hours of now left
so anxious
for the moment to become home again
where all the imperfect beauty
can flourish in my heart
there is a sadness here
a loneliness in this place
so deep
in the eyes of strangers
that flutter around
bright corners of early morning darkness
where fans spin to stir the sound
of voices seeking voices
so deep
not even cup after cup of laughter
can wash away
the solitude
I can see
through a door
just barely open,
the light shift across
your dream darkened face.
I can hear
through walls,
around corners of waiting,
your whispers like moths
as they flee shadowed space.
I can feel
through moments
and years of unknowing
your fluttering heart
find its rhythm and pace.
All of this
while you are
nowhere near.
...........................
if you see me
across the distance
of smoke filled shadows
and red glassed candles
let me know
if you hear my name
beneath the booming bass
and tin drum guitars
of juke box memories,
please
please
whisper it like a gift
through the din
into my silent heart
.................................
only a few hours of now left
so anxious
for the moment to become home again
where all the imperfect beauty
can flourish in my heart
there is a sadness here
a loneliness in this place
so deep
in the eyes of strangers
that flutter around
bright corners of early morning darkness
where fans spin to stir the sound
of voices seeking voices
so deep
not even cup after cup of laughter
can wash away
the solitude