There are whispers, undercurrents and eddies within and they have a sound, a language all their own. Do you understand them? These are the steps we walk, translated and prismatic.. leading us to a center estuary. Lulled to the beat and pulse of my lover's pure heart thrumming so close to my own, these precious moments of solace and peace. In a strange precipice of consciousness, these sounds urge me to mold that ever present fear into ribbons of warmth and light. Tendrils of transcendent cocoons that heal and never harm. For her, I will shift mountains.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Silkworm Sounds
There are whispers, undercurrents and eddies within and they have a sound, a language all their own. Do you understand them? These are the steps we walk, translated and prismatic.. leading us to a center estuary. Lulled to the beat and pulse of my lover's pure heart thrumming so close to my own, these precious moments of solace and peace. In a strange precipice of consciousness, these sounds urge me to mold that ever present fear into ribbons of warmth and light. Tendrils of transcendent cocoons that heal and never harm. For her, I will shift mountains.
Labels:
Dennis Wilson,
Love,
Transcendence
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