MOONBOWS AND MORNING MAGIC

 

MOONBOWS AND MORNING MAGIC

Sleep tonight—

I’ll ride the moonbows

of this universe,

arcs of silver light

braiding through the dark,

a celestial path

woven from the night’s

quiet breath.

I’ll chase the answers we seek,

plucking them like stars

from the oracle-wisdom

of the heavens,

where constellations

whisper secrets

in a language

older than time.  

If you’re asking

what I want,

specifically,

it’s you—

the gravity of your laugh,

the way your presence

anchors my wandering soul.

Revealing my sweetness,

a tender bloom

unfurling in the warmth

of your gaze,

and the raw-sushi honesty

of my eyes,

naked as dawn,

I know this is a place

I’ll always crave—

a heaven, a town

I’d pack up my life

and move to,

no map needed,

just the compass

of your nearness.  

It’s a given,

things in love

aren’t a one-size-fits-all formula,

no neatly folded manual

tucked in the glovebox

of the heart.

We’re left to fumble,

to stumble through

obstacle courses,

where we stand

on opposing sides

of the same riddle,

problem-solving

with hands that shake,

eyes that search

for the thread

that binds us

through the maze.  

Having slept

in your grace,

beside you,

in the soft cradle

of exhaustion,

both of us waking

to the alarm clock

of your smile—

a sunrise in itself,

you,

you can even put magic

into mornings,

turning the mundane

into a spell,

the ordinary

into a hymn

hummed by the dawn.  

So sleep tonight,

and I’ll ride the moonbows,

gathering stardust

and whispered truths,

until the night

fades into day,

and I return

to the orbit

of your arms,

where love—

wild, unscripted,

and ours—