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True and Quiet Power
The gust of awareness stirs the air, both pleasant and yearning
Winsome as memory, spell branches whispering above the bank
Near as you remain, unsure of sun or rain, to whisper countenance
Wishes seem to weave a web of perhaps and possibly, like silken threads
My fingers find my lips to silence them, lest they disturb whatever bliss
Plucked like whatever chords might the instrument of my heart sound
Every ripple, every kiss of rainbow trout against the glass water
There you are, always at the center of my imminent happiness
Copyright Kkh 7/9/2011
