Poetry is so strange; like a stiletto sharp moon it shines our hearts with midnight wonders. And, by its glow I read, "our deep cosmic loneliness and our starboard hearts where love careens, we are listening, the small bipeds with the giant dreams." Yes D.A., we are listening to the pulsar songs played in the universe. We are listening for others, who just may be listening for us.
Seduction is like this you know; subtle, uncertain, even fragile at times; yet irresistable as Lilacs beckoning the moon. Seduction is also a summer down pour we willingly get caught in, jumping greedily in puddles, laughing, just happy to be together. We listen to the patterns water splashing made; listen for others to hear what they have to say, even if they were many galaxies away. * We listen. We wait, but not idly. We listen, write poetry sharp, like a stiletto moon. And, under its midnight glow, hold hands.
NOTE: the bold quoted lines are from a poem called "We Are Listening", by Diane Ackerman found in her book entitled "Jaguar of Sweet Laughter".