Collecting Stones

Playing in my dreams of times years away,
Toying with my hearts and my hopes,
The path is forked,
But I yearn deeply for both paths,
Fulfilling one in my reality and one in my sleep,
I silently hope to view your mirror,
With a wish tied to an anklet wisked away in the devil's throat,
A wish that cannot be spoken,
A wish that is carried by the powers of Iguaçú,
A wish that is whole.
I will search the world for myself for I have already found you,
I see those eyes in the sparing blue of a butterfly's flight,
In the dimpled smile of a native child,
In the ancient love shown on the beaches of honey,
I desire you to count my freckles and kiss my sunned skin,
I look at the moon and hope you are looking at me too,
I want to share all the waterfalls with you,
But for now I must be patient,
I must swim this river until it finds your delta,
It's not that we are growing apart,
It's that we are independently preparing,
Becoming the people we want to be,
One must find happiness within,
Before it can be shared like rain,
I am busy collecting stones,
Ceasing only when the weight demands,
But my basket is light for now.
My sail will naturally point north,
When it is finally full,
And on that day,
You will be on the dock,
Independently driven,
With a sunflower in hand and a straight back,
With an exchange lacking in only words,
You will proudly lift my stones and I will smile,
And we will know that all is right,
Grasp hands and watch the sunset,
For then, life will begin.



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