I know this rhythm

Rhythm. I had to spell that one out.

----

I know this song.
A familiar wind breezes across my plains.
The wheat bends, whistles, a cry:

Come Dance!

The moment, fleeting

An invitation, a door usually hidden
Always there
Unseen
Ever present

I saw you in a flash,
The lights went down...
I fumble through the darkness--
is this the right handle?

Turn and enter.

I find myself here,
A familiar blank page
filling
filling
white space turns to ink,
image of ink,
a flow,
a river,
creek,
virgin stream it seems,
Though this land has known the water

all too well.

She dwells beneath this soil,
her whole body there.
Under my nose,
Though in congestion I fail to recognize her scent.

Failure--fail, fall, fell
To fail is a celebration of the attempt,
Try, try again
Smell--SMELL again

Deep

Breath...

Stretch your imagination---challenge your perception

paradigm shift realign the construct that says:
Your door is hidden,
Your riverbed is dry,
Your nose doesn't know,
The wind doesn't sing...

like it used to.

Poetry never dies, my love.

She is ever and always with us.

Calling:

Dance.

Just
move
your
feet;

faith.