The Myriad Colors of the Evening
Friday, October 6, 2023
I was writing me a poem
About the Harvest Moon
And then I realized
That it’s November
And the moon is now the Beaver Moon
And that Beavers are wet and Cold
And often Stink
Even though like all animals
They are lovely
And like all animals
Get Trapped/Hunted Down
At night
Under the moonlight
A thought came to me that
If God were to arm All Animals
The Hunters could become the Hunted
I look down from my Hotel Window
Cars like Ants
Following each other in a line
Stop and go
I am Stationary
Everything around Me Moves
Everything in Me Moves
The Seconds hand on my Watch
Blood in my veins
Thoughts in my Mind
Theory of Relativity
Everything in Motion
Relative to Each Other
And I am Squarely In it
For Now
I was telling me
All sorts of things
Just to pass the evening
For I was bored of all the Small Talk
And the Football game
When I remembered that this universe
Has a twin
A Parallel
And somewhere there
I am sitting enjoying
The small talk
And the Game
And it puzzled me to know
That I am a dichotomy
Just like you and everyone else
The smell of Earth
Rises with the rain
And makes me delirious
I see the Beauty of your Eyes
And your lips
The curve of Your Smile
My Heart captures it all
And quenches it's lifelong thirst
It is not a desire
But a need for survival
That brings me to You
Drenched in the Downpour
We both dance and Love
A primordial feel
A divine touch
It is all eternal
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