A Mild Tremor

Her silence, now slowly caressed into an awakening

Aroused, like a flower, waiting to bloom

A lilt, a sway, a cadence and silence again

To merge into a symphony

Like body and soul, with emotions for company

A mild tremor, a sudden rush of warmth

Knotted stomach, and not to forget the fluttering heart

Something bursting to explode, wanting a release,

An anticipation, a magical blend of anguish, pain and pleasure

Like flowers within a tiny seed

Biding its time, to bloom

The process each time unique

Into untold stories, she waits to breathe

Yet it is nothing that has not happened before

She is born, a poem, a handful of words,

Enchantingly strung together with eloquent spaces

The search for words often ending in silences

Everything that needs to be said has already been said before

Admittedly better than I could ever say it

Yet the curious child in me is naive, and willing

To see the world, lifting the veil of truisms

With a fresh set of eyes, a shifting prism

Like two throbbing hearts that conceive a child,

It all started with a mild tremor of a lonely heart

A solitary moment, I can no longer remember!

I added my two discordant quavers

To the symphony of the existing world of words.