Waiting

I waited—

for Eternity,

for Love,

for that soft touch

that grazes

the blades of grass,

like dew

on a cold winter night—

quiet,

tender,

and wet

with pleasure.

I waited—

for the Embrace

of Want,

like a pearl

clasped close

to the heart

of the oyster,

born from pain,

like a drop

of tear,

and held

tightly close.

I waited—

Endlessly

to be the need,

like the Earth

waiting for light

from the Sun,

for the quiet flow

of Life—

to breathe,

to bloom,

to breed,

to inundate.

In a small chamber—

of Forever,

a scent is locked.

A touch,

so gentle,

so strong,

of want—

perpetuated

through the skin—

was recorded.

A pull—

so fierce,

of need,

it defied

the laws—

was felt,

was imprinted.

A bond—

so pure,

so fragile,

of love—

was born,

was documented.

The stars know.

The sky knows.

The darkness—

remembers.

Bloom of Love