I am a dream weaver. I am alive only when I dream. I am a haunting melody echoing in the woods, the lonesome moon princess gliding through the marbled floors of the night.
I am the twilight rain, Silent, mysterious. I am the mist that slowly descends over hills, rivers, valleys, woods and towns. I am the flush of the morning and the crimson hue of the sunset sky.
I am the dew nestled in the womb of delicate flowers, a raindrop hanging from a glistening new leaf. The soft green moss on the white smooth pebbles, I am solitary wild flower dancing in the spring breeze. I am the new folded April bud on winter- haunted tree.
Under the splendor of the starlit sky bare feet I dance on the shifting sand dunes. Music fills my soul, music that no one else can hear. Sounds of silence fill the empty spaces in me.
Night wraps everything in its soft blanket. The orange moon slowly drifts past my window and lingers on, resting on its elbow on naked silvery branches of the tree. We lay silently, our bare bodies soaked in its lucid beams. Consumed.
The only sound is of the rhythmic beats of two hearts beating as one. Your moist scent fills me completely. The moon decides to move on, and slowly a heavy darkness envelopes us. I can’t see you but your scent lingers around me speaking to me of your presence. I inhale the mild aroma of lavender that drifts with the night breeze from your soft cotton shirt.
I close my eyes and enjoy the mixed aromas, the scent of the wood smoke, the gardenia blossoms, your skin, your breath, your sweat.
I taste, drink, smell and take you in. I rejoice in our togetherness, in the scents that bring you to me.
I turn and gaze at your sleeping silhouette in the dim moonlight and feel warm all over once again in the cold of the winter night.