Anticipatory quiet,
and the gathering fullness
builds upon itself in secret,
unknown ways.

Here in this old kitchen,
morning finds you in a shirt
silkscreened with one distant
cluster of stars.

Emblematic, a medicine shield
guarding a silent, wise heart
equally full of light.

She is ice
And he is fire

She is an angel
And him a devil

She's often seen sitting
On a park bench
Dressed immaculately; rich
With her nose  stuck  in a book

Whereas he's often seen lounging
At a squalid pub
With a drink in hand
Smoke curling from his smirking lips

Both polar opposites,
Ying and yang.
Yet when  together
They become one

Her Fire can thaw  his ice
And his water  tames her *fire