How great you are. (7-7-2010)

It is in the moment when we first met, with the sincere interest in you, your fame, your weakness, your heart. It is quiet when you touch me, alive in your smile. I know breath in a humid night, and the chances to be awake as I walk toward the mailbox. I very well understand the consequences for love, and the price to be paid when you speak such kind words. It is so easy to cherish, so simple to smile, and amazing to have thoughts that praise this. I practice this in image, created from sentiments of now. Yes, to your words. Yes, to your mouth. Yes, to the drama that made you. Your invited to see the sun, the flowers in my hands, the language that will do all it can, just to tell you how great you are.

In a Stand-Still (7-2-2010)

In the morning air, the moon could be seen a quarter empty, while a star served near to be her companion. It was summer, yet the air was like fall, still the flowers greeted me on my walk. The haze in the dome stood violet, facing the particles of orange, but I was not restrained from receiving a sense of the atmosphere. There was an overwhelming beauty, incomplete, awaiting eyes, ears, and a sense of its fragrance, or conversation that could confirm or compare how and what it was.

Thought could be of recollection, and then there was opportunity for nothing to occur except the beauty that would exist, only if I confirmed it. I paused on the sidewalk. Before, I watched my envelope get stuck in the slot of the box, and I recalled the words I had written. I could have taken it back, but there was no word unkind or gossip that ruined thoughts. I let it go. In the stand-still, I faced the sky. I thanked both the creator and its witness.