A Walk in the Sky

Early morning stillness. A stick of incense burns.

An energy churns.

Amidst thousands of hours of sameness, you notice the difference.

Light, open, warm and free.

A bow returned, a mountain stirred.

A gesture of your hand and a smile take all pretense away.

The gentle line of your neck, observed from afar.

Ritual ensues, urgency pursues.

The heart delights, the mind excites.

Turns out this hand is already held. 

Tell me, how can this longing be quelled?


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