Common Ground
I never thought of sand
but now that you mention it,
I’ll use it in my next dream.
A darkened office, yes,
but never sand
in full sunlight.
I did hide on a dune once
with a runaway soul mate,
sifting through past lives
for nearly five years
before the conversation died,
and he reincarnated
into his former life.
I said I’d never do that again,
separate a woman from her man.
Run with restless longings
to a strange land,
bury my persona in the sand.
I’d sooner stay a lover,
hold a compromising position
in dangerous proximity
and keep myself.
And now here I am,
face to face with myself
blending into you.
A gentle soul I know so well
I don’t even have to ask
who you are.
As if we have already been each other,
the meeting seems faultless and familiar.
I see the grail in your eyes,
and we build pyramids for the world
using sand from a common ground.
Excavating just beneath the surface,
I recognize a secret domain.
A private space, where our thoughts
create life without gravity.
Where the walls are made of sand
and easily moved,
piled against us for protection,
and shift at a single touch;
filling in each depression
with a new ounce of promise,
adding grist for dreams
and an entrance that hides our footsteps.
A place where we can unshackle
all our earth-bound chains.
I’ve been here before,
but not like this.
You are permanent,
and I’ve grown older
and patient.
This time I can wait,
knowing that the yearning years
may never end,
that the hourglass must be turned
before the last grain of sanity falls,
that my fantasy must be silent
like my dreams....
When the sand comes to life
beneath your wheels
and engulfs you
on some desert afternoon,
scan the horizon and think of me,
lurking behind a larrea,
my body hot and parched
from years of waiting to drink you in,
my spirit willing to be filled
with moist and precious loving
at the drop of a tear.
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