Synchronisation
It is a tranquil convalescence Soft breaths and rapid eye movement I imagine You dream of silvered wolves And moon goddesses Pale dresses fading in the wind Leaving trails of scintillation That illume the expanse of midnight purple Crimson infused, its blues Like a deep sigh of infatuation Warms the skin There were once the black jagged teeth Of coniferous trees They are maw no more, but sacred grove Open and welcoming And I envision us Sprawled upon a bed of moss Whispering star gazing tales Of non-existent constellations While here, in reality I seek the comfort of your shoulder Carefully sliding the lightest touch Down radiating soft To hold your hand without you waking You answer The faintest squeeze So my heartbeat Synchronises with yours Before I know it, I sink into a deep sleep Then, you are the first I see Smiling:
“What were you waiting for?”
--- 23-3-2022, M.A. Tempels ©
