(a sort-of poem sort of written as I mulled over being out of bed this cloudy morning)
Who am I to you?
Who are we to each other?
Love -- the mysterious way forward.
We got there quickly, passing by nowhere,
eyeing the edge of somewhere
and two-stepping through everywhere.
A few dawns have touched your eyes
and the wind still caresses your hair.
yet you still make my life smile.
Our time is becoming overgrown
as we walk on the pebbles of years
and weave the ripples back into our own tune.
But it’s not to chance that we leave ourselves.
We sky-trip that light fantastic --
to what, we won’t know until we get there.