In my imagination I call to tell you
the apples have reddened on the tree in
the grocery parking lot

And you answer from the pitch black of the Pinto
back seat annointed with Mennen and Old Spice
where we folded around each other in sublime discomfort.

In my imagination I call, just to hear you say
“What do you want?” and to hear myself answer,
“Summer.”

one minute to midnight.  where’s my pumpkin?

It’s a good day at work when your friend gives you a reason to look at a list of English words with Arabic roots, which topic leads to the inevitable Rumi, and where that leads to usually can’t be spoken.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened.
Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading.
Take down the dulcimer.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. – Jelaluddin Rumi

Sit with me; hold hands.
Unleash the silence that is longing to take shape.
Soon the birds will begin to sing, and dawn will rise in our hearts,
not beautiful, not interesting,
and not at all like love,
but full of wanting
nothing but the day.

Some days you are just lucky and find butterflies in your hair.

My last post was new software and two hard drive disasters ago, therefor I get a free pass (which is nothing like a free past).

Its been like trying to see other people when you know you are in love. I couldn’t wait to be back with you. I’m so glad we are here together again.