🌬 My favourite kind of weather 🌧
With my eyes closed
The sound of car tyres against the watery soot
Reminds me of the ocean waves crashing against the shores in a distance.
When we reach the innermost depths of our lives
It is the simplest things that we remember.
The ones that passed us by.
The ones that didn't quite count in our minds.
Skin that brush past the back of your hand.
The way her eyes glowed in that shaft of sunlight.
The clouds sliding across the sky, shifting the light on the tarmac.
The breath that gets carried away on the wings of the westerly wind.
The leaves that rustle in the presence of movement in the air.
The log that falls off and burns away with a tiny spark in the fireplace.
The song that comes on the radio on a road trip.
Rain sliding across the windowpane.
Dao lives on in everyone and everything.
You and I
We sit here holding hands.
You and I
Reading each other's words
Passing messages on this screen
Nonchalance that may not even be remembered across the vast passage of time.
And yet.
Nothing is ever a coincidence.
You and I
If we are lucky we will sit here more than once
Maybe twice
Maybe thrice.
If we are lucky we will shed tears here
Together.
If we are lucky enough to see each other again and again
Share laughter and calm and unspoken love
Share Tea from one bowl
You and I
Sitting together in
My favourite kind of weather.
I bow deeply to you
Thanking you
For allowing me to hold you
To witness you
To guide you.
You and I
Sitting here together
Resolving karmic ties
Raising the collective consciousness.
You and I
Do you see the greater interstellar mandala we are weaving here,
Just you and I?
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