I just want somewhere I can truly feel what it means to be HOME, safe, secure, and loved…

Of Dreams and of Waking…

Of dreams,

and of waking,

and of strawberry fields on somnolent vacation,

behind my lover’s eyes.

Of home, and of safety;

A bookshelf,

dog eared copies of escapist daydreams of youth

in days of make believe.

The prenatal cocoon,

a blanket with a little doll nestled beneath

encased in the comfort and warmth

of her lover’s arms…

Kintsugi:

Not quite fractured;

Not quite whole.

Beautiful, nonetheless…

I often allow my fantasies to bloom,

native flora in our garden

fostering a host of humbled bees

bumbling about their business.

Erupt,

in rose-lipped petals,

flushes of warmth,

these flutterings of love so dear to me,

so sacred.

I’ll think of my lover,

of the soul’s embrace,

the entanglement of faiths that promises to be

more than we know,

more than mere chemistry can explain.

A love seductive in it’s distance,

impassioned in its trials,

inflamed in its yearnings.

A love so perfect

It is

home.