This Dance

breathing in, igniting quiet faith
born of geometric circumstance
whose self and sole intention
lies in the formation of invisible wings

the very embers of imaginal sailings
wait to emanate from someplace secretly within,
forged much stronger
than strength and steel

born of love

of the belief that all things in time do, and can be
without near as much frustration as the latter end
of disbelieving

no need for such irreverence here
amongst the sacred swing of daphne scented boughs
the crisply colored moon
and a many melon flavored memory

sweeter is as sweeter can be
having yet to make its way into beginning

and
I will wait for you there
if you ask me to

walking amongst the garden path
the wild and forgotten,
the remembered and the savory
tantalizing taste buds from the bittersweet perspective of the soul

who knows what hidden places
make for the best surprise

aha!
shall we begin,
then

shall we tear through the pages of history
whose time has come and past and lingered

shall we trust then in the tea stained spine
the very standing monument to worldly chapters
that dares be broken through

and down,
and out,
and over

shall this we that is intangible
finally begin to see, to live

what will become of us

and ever still the dance moves onward
while the place that we began is quickly shifting
colors embodying the miraculous stuff and essence of rainbows
confounding all who dare to whisper stolen answers to the breeze

steady
the etheric dust between us falls at a pace
indifferent to its own divine timing
and gathers still at the tips of reason
and tethers us

together.

by. Rachael Ehrlund

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