Chasing Cotton Flakes...

Stop by my heart

And listen to it beat,

Pulsating through the anxiousness,

Running along my soul today 

Stop. And listen carefully.

You will hear the stories 

Concocted in the passionate imagination of a lover,

Fuming in anger and dripping in love

At the same time,

Waiting for her beloved

To break through the shackles of designated worldliness and melt into the honeyed version 

Of her deepest desires

That fit right into 

Her little world of paradise.

If you listen closely enough

You might also hear her 

Footsteps, along with

The tinkling of 

The trinkets she wears,

Running along the dewy grass

Chasing cotton flakes,

Like a little girl

Amidst a sea of the spring in the air. 

And if you wait some more,

Just a few more moments;

Wait till the pulsating slows down,

You will hear

The songs of silence

Vigorously written down

As the words come falling

Out of the canopy over her head

While she lies on the same dewy grass

Counting white clouds 

In a sky of her wildest dreams.

Shhh. Listen. 

Stop and listen to the silence of my heart. 

A thunderstorm is due tonight.