Within the sanctuary of a warm bed,
listening to the wind and rain outside,
I thought I could hear her voice,
faint and distant, soothing amidst the turmoil,
whispering to my soul,
atonement for the pain inside,
once upon an evening like this,
shall I hearken to her call,
joining her on the other side of the dark,
velvet shrouds of night,
reaching out and making me whole again.

When the heart joins that of another
it does not see the hands of the clock,
neither counts the days or the months,
lost in its search for sanctuary and peace,
the heart only knows where it is meant to be
and where it will forever remain.

This is that
that becomes this
life is full of thats
in a time full of this
read the riddle of that
find all the answers to this
this will then become that.

With a tobacco pouch in hand
one might contemplate a new world order
or maybe a cup of coffee,
life through the haze of a smokers delight
might seem a little contrite
recalled in slumber, passions to ignite.
misty haze to hide the sun,
into the darkness when slumbers run.

To dream of love is to find ones self
lifting pebbles in a field full of rocks
gazing through a mist of souls
searching through moonbeams
hiding in shadows that have never been cast
shining eyes through a blood red haze
drifting through these crystal days
gods that dream in the autumn light
slender arms on a  cold winters night
calm the rhythms of this eternal dance
as hearts take flight in a cerebral trance.