Here and now
It’s a mystery, the source of all.
The subtle, precious essence,
stirring up creative forces bubbling inside.
How, where, when, why… ?
Light must come out to greet the Sun.
Particles collide.
I’m not the only one who loves the flow.
If that’s what rain feels to a tree,
A word, a thought will do,
to move me from within,
to make me smile,
inspire me to write a verse or three.
A special bond,
the alchemy called synergy,
it means a world to me.
With gratitude.
To my beloved muse.
You roll your mighty body with impeccable waves.
You extend a playful, immersive delight.
I savor you with gratitude,
with sparks in my eyes.
Not the best of Cuban torcedores*,
nor my mum with Walnut Christmas cake,
can match your expertly crafted wake,
with salty flavors that swirl, fold, and perfectly break.
The foaming, dissolving dance in each wave you make – an electrifying grace.
You alone can sweep me off my feet and meet me where I am,
always catching me, lovingly, in your waterfull embrace.
I dig you, especially when sand is where I stand.
Your hypnotic sound.
A timeless symphony you alone can play,
for as long as gravity remains.
In fact, your soothing hum,
exudes the might
that hibernates my monkey mind.
I say yes!
Yes to my inner child that loves to play!
How lucky am I to splutter and paddle as if I was a child.
Thank you!
Thank you, for the playfulness that never ends.
For the joy you bring out of my salt loving, porous, Swiss cheese like cells.
*A torcedor is a skilled craftsman or artisan who hand-rolls cigars.
Ps… you can’t whip a whacky poem like this with Chat GPT,
so don’t fret about AI, it cannot come up with real stuff, because it cannot swim nor play,
it’s not kicking, and it’s not alive.
But it can surely help with a few crafty synonyms I need once in a while.
So, thank you for the role you play in
my sweet little rhyming game.
Stranded on the ocean cliff.
Or so it seems.
On a bright, full-moon night,
she finds herself.
At peace.
At last.
A gentle, yet fierce beauty,
imbued with a force of hundreds of horses.
Strong, born to be wild,
ready to gallop whenever and wherever she calls.
The glaring sky is filled with millions stars,
From one horizon to the other.
The cold autumn wind is sweeping through the air.
The path is crystal clear.
The chill – she feels it to her bones.
The unexpected leap of fate.
The buck is safe – for now.
The deer – no longer caught in headlights.
Shhhh, slow down my muse, my vital force.
He begins to whistle as she glides with ease.
There is no need to speed.
Too close lurks the edge.
Beware, the ocean’s rough.
The cliffs are rising,
it’s dark, it’s steep.
An exhilarating thrill shines through her eyes.
The steadfast bracing of his heart.
Breathe, co-regulate.
There is no need to rush.
Hold my hand – if you will.
She sails across the seven seas…
the stallions set free.
Savoring their final dance.
Take the leap,
Trust your beat,
Take that chance.
This… is Your Dance.
Such magnificence by the ocean,
So much aliveness in togetherness of folding and unfolding.
From my heart to your heart.
Longing – Yes, I too am longing.
My heart is swelling as I fly between two corners of the world,
Filled with all your blessings.
They carry me home – from your home to my home.
I carry you home with every beat of my heart.
My heart beats with your heart wrapped in a cozy warm blanket.
I savour the precious, the sacred, the magic.
My muse, my source of inspiration!
Yes, you are my elevation.
I move with you on a dance floor, together and apart.
I hold your essence; I hold it closest to my heart.
I fold towards my heart like the petals of a rose fold in at night.
Oh, the sweet fragrance of your hearts.
I close my eyes, my body sways.
I move, I am moved inside out,
together and apart.
