I love the wild silence heard
as the Aspen whisper to Cedars
in the early morn.
It's a love sonnet
written on a summer breeze
as it tickles rustling leaves.

It reminds me
of the goose bump silence
stealing my breath
when you touch me.

Aztec Warrior 8/24/15

a state or condition
of which
this whole **** world
is being put
in the pocket
of your heart
being hard to breath
hard to move

©IGMS

it's everywhere
though no eyes can see
but it can be felt
sometimes blissful
sometimes mournful
no genius can grasp the existence of it
no one could comprehend
it's beyond perception
it's complex
it takes place everyday
it's veracity
no drug could cure
no one could cease
no one could hiatus
and everyone felt it
though it fade
but when time comes
another will came
though it ache
but when time comes
it will heal

©IGMS 2014