Strange Directions

With the joy of a victor,

you place a star fish

in to my hands.

I point at each arm and say,

north, south, east and west.

You touch the fifth one and say,

this is my direction.

Ignorant of the fifth, I remain silent.

foolish lass, you chide.

I see the cyclones hiding

on your feet,

they flap their powerful wings,

my dove wings seems feeble.

Your heart pumps blood,

my heart transports love.

While you go for taxonomy,

I seek the thoughts of plants.

With different dreams

we sleep with the same eyes.