the sound of
reminds me of the ocean surf
at dusk, when there is more heard than seen,
lapping at feet like angel kisses drawing soul home.
it speaks to me in a crash of life so immense
mind becomes lost in wonder
and i become senseless
in that silent instant between wax and wane
where you wait ever so patiently,
just to remind me again
that there is only one
where there is no room
for two, we is but a metaphor
of separation and forgetting, of thinking
instead of be-ing, too sober for this cup
passed between true lovers.
you always chuckle when i carry on like this,
drunk on union and weaving with the waves.
this dance is less than mist, smaller than sand,
quiet in the surf-sound of love. incessant,
patient, it whispers your unspoken name.