summer storm gliding low
glances off treetop horizon
singing
my name is somewhere in that rumble
amidst vortexial updrafts
and angel wings
hovering with crystal drops of reflected fire
it is not for nothing that i seek you here
among yellow sunbursts and purple showers
where time flows like honey
around the fragrance of the moment
for your name too is in the atmosphere
summoning my heart like lightning
waiting until i cease my wanting
so that my eyes may open and begin
there are no answers here
only the silent question
which sings to me
of love
(when chris met heather)