Sweet breath of mountain,
Breathing in slumberous calm
Controlling my mind with the deep smells
Of each pine needle, crushed under foot.
Sending up my senses the memories of mountains
Buried where past breezes blow.
Taking my breath with each step,
Sleep over rock, taxing my lungs
Drinking yet deeper the mountains persuasion.
Knife sharp glints of sun
Slip between bough and branch
Casting fractured lights and dark, dancing
Shadows at mid-day.
The mountains small creatures attract
The quick glance.  Calm watchers see
Soft green lizards, tiny bugs,
Slowing only, to look at me.
Cold waters split the mountains skin
Ever running downward, ripple over rocks
And fallen cones.  Falling to crescendo
In a white cascade, searching a path to the sea.
Take me sweet mountain, let me stand
As a tree on your side.  Let me be nurtured from inside you
That I may grace you humbly, and that you, might grace, me.

Sweep gently cross the light hairs,
Gracing the tender neck and head,
Blow to criss-cross, part, then unfold
Touching, tickling, ever so lightly.

Small the rise of goose flesh
A silent, tender shutter on the skin
Another creature touched
A stroke of the Nights wind.

Solitude, never crowd
Leaves the senses open, aware to feel
The blade that only scars, never cuts
The heart.  Being alone.

Sanctity and reverence, something holy
Peers inside the soul,
Snatching a few tiny seconds
Taking them off, on the Night winds blow.

Weakness prevails on a wanting heart
Rapt with attention on a love lost.
Corrupt to decay, the mortals hold,
                    Buried,
                        Forever buried,
                           Burning the soul.
Its depth without definition
Its breadth wider than though,
But the chain holds tight, welded
                     Welded
                        to forever
                           to its forge.
No understanding, no hint comprehended
Of lost psyche, lost physical
Of emotions poured out as hot acid
                        Draining
                             Ever
                                 Draining.
Weakness takes over, lies can abound
Crossing lips still missing tenderness,
Across a mind void of reason
                        Pulling
                             the
                                Blood
The very life giving blood of power
Of mans pure self
Weak in the face of want.

The dawn still miles from reality
Distant still forefront of desire,
But evening is well for the soul unattended
Still waking in dusk soft touch.

Stretching the day can be obsession
For fears of the night door, waste of morning
Obsession the steps to panic and frenzy
In; to the black empty dark.

Fear is exposed, the heart rent open,
Falling in a waking dream, falling to no end
A necessary trial for survivors who learn
To spare the cold midnight.

The darkest door in the darkest room
Most often opens to some light, maybe gray,
Maybe shadowed, maybe sunshine,
But always, beyond the cold midnight.

Romance and desire, such a thin line
Falls between right and wrong
No fence sitters here, either is the call
With penalties built in to both.

Romance price; a life, most likely your own
With all you have given it
Forever you carry a piece in your heart
Never shed, can you be, of its grip.

Desire is more; you choose who you ****
Who will suffer from false hopes and whims
Who will make the mistake of false hung romance
And invest more than they want to give.

Desire is a shell, false throughout
An empty satisfaction at best
While romance can hold and comfort
And be the companion through this earthly life.

Careful plot of line and form,
Perfections drawn shapes to blend
The face as a porcelain doll
Cast in light robe backdrop.

Long neck white, unblemished
Tender to touch and eager
Traced lines to *******  still pink
Untouched by nursing strains.

Simple straights, lingering curves
To legs of runners envy
And feet carved by artists old
With eyes a tempting, piercing cold.

Colors washed from imaginations pallet,
Leave the sculpture bare and cold,
But oh the minds dear dreaming,
Can touch each sense, through seeing.

Seeing you took all the
Evil thoughts off my mind,
And brought about the good ones,
The tame ones, the wild ones, again.  Feeling you there
Made the world right, made it seem to
Turn and answer the coming night, as it rolled around, and one
Knew it was coming, as a cold breath in the sky.

You were seen but not seeing,
As you could be taken only
As a woman should,
Inside the heart, the mind, the thrill
Of knowing that you
Were there, and you could be seen, Tess, talking, or being talked too.
So quiet…..and watching you,
Your eyes move across the tile,
Looking up and around you, but close, so close
It felt that I should
Touch you, and bring you back to me, but I listened, I watched, I waited.

The waves of water beat
Down upon your shoulders,
Your graying hair felt its force and
Was washed downward, your face frankly watched,
Your eyes closed, then open, more so clear,
It steamed and rolled down you, your arms
Pulled up, a backward shape, as you
Clasped your hands at your chin, and covered your ******* with your elbows
And you saw them, in that devilish water.

So clear and steaming, the waves
Covered your body.  The
Spirits circled about and surrounded your head.
But I listened, I watched, I waited.

Quiet at first, then murmurs, then little
Noises that made no sense,
And Tess…..
Your mouth never moved,
Your eyes they wandered with reality,
And small words,
Crept out, not of you,
Nor by you, but words that seemed so quiet,
With the water splashing around, and spanking
The floor with its downward run, and the
Past, the future, the feeling around you,
Your being so light, your feet were off the ground,
Touching your shoulders, your face, your hair
The water seemed much louder, as I watched,
But the noises grew, your face moved
Quickly from side to side,
And upward and back, and your mouth was moving, as if
To compete,
But no sound ventured out,
Except the sounds of feelings that dashed
Before your eyes, and your body shook,
And your skin grew red, and your face it turned
To take them all in, and your eyes, wet from the water,
Wet now with tears.

The volume was so loud, the water, the feelings, the voices,
Beating down on your head, banging about the shower walls, crossing the room
Finding me, like thunder on the stage it cracked and shook, and went silent…

Just the water, just you Tess,
Just the feelings of you being alone,
As you turn it off
As you peel from the wrapping,
Pull your towel close to your face
Wipe your tears and the water, washing it off,
You turn, and see me,
And you smile,
You lay your head, still wet,
On my shoulder, and it is us, all alone.