Dear love,

Your heart beats
to the rhythm of the rain,
I feel your pulse,
in my every vein.

I see your smile
in every sun-drenched day,
I feel your kiss
and I become your clay.

I wipe away the tears
when I hear your cry.
I carry you like the wind,
carries goodbye.

Some say I’m crazy
and that love knows no death,
because I never stopped loving you
since you took your final breath.

Memories take hold
when the moment becomes still,
dear images from the past,
become today’s current thrill.

Archives taking refuge
in minds unable to let go,
another life,
to which every hour does owe.

Reflections of yesterday
escape into our lives,
a passenger of the present,
that sometimes still drives.

When the moment becomes still,
and memories take hold,
the paintings of the past,
become today’s new old.

The center of the sky,
my mind flutters
with the long, white, linen curtains dancing in the wind,
circulating the scents
of fabric softener
throughout open abodes.

It is there, I rest my back against
a centered Romanesque pillar,
casting it’s shadow upon the many
dried paint brushes
that color warm complexions
to the surface of the ground.

The surface of sound
echo’s
of wooden wind-chimes
soft reverb, complimenting
the zephyr’s breath,
fulfilling my heart
with a cucumber
freshness.

Breathless
walls
collapse,
and my soul
becomes
one
with the center of the sky.