the open door

I return to the foothills,

soft pillows, plush,
little eden houses.
Brown mounds open
in a gesture of receiving.

Breath runs through this valley,
the dark mystery awakens.
Minds flicker and the door opens,
beckoning the soft creature of
a sweet memory:
of wild sage, perfuming -

and blink.

Young hearts sparkle
as a summer storm roams.
Lightning flashes,
brightening the dark sky -

and blink.

Of the shimmering aspen,
dappled light
upon the soft floor
where we made our bed -

and blink.

Hands entwined
across the wilds of night,
and eyes locked
in a soft gaze -

and blink.

Lungs empty,
the base reached,
now, only what’s left
lays bare.