Your gold-hued sliver of light adventures through the tiny tunnel, funnels into my previous haven—b’fore it was bitter-goodbyes-laden. The blotchy black tar sponge-painted throughout my heart gradiates from dark shade to its original crimson.
My, your, our Universe, unearthed.
Smiling eyes, goldened existence.
Sometimes, I don’t write in words.
I write in gazes; in vibrations;
in simple moments of childlike elation.
We’re all poets, but know this:
No pens or pencils could write our life stories.
No metaphor can adorn your journey
like a soul collision between bodies miles apart.
No simile can unleash the kind of smile you get when
you stumble upon a loved one you haven’t seen in a while.
One look can write a thousand poems instantaneously.
But don’t mistake looks for appearances
or what you see with the eyes.
You’re a cosmic poet, meant to flow with it all.
The ebbs and flows; highs and lows.
Within, with-out—all around.
This isn’t my poem. It’s only a poem when I stop
using words and meditate on the infinity
that permeates our bones;
the very fabric of all realities;
The One Soul.
Eva PoeteX © 2016