When Ripeness Comes

Dreaming or awake,
the soft wind moves through me,
carrying your name
again and again
into the quiet places of my heart,
at every ending, every beginning,
as days slip by
and mornings keep finding me.

The visions I hold
are the ones that refuse to leave.
Dreaming or awake,
they return without asking,
touching the eyes of my heart
at every ending, every beginning,
as time drifts forward
and another dawn arrives.

I see two young apples,
twins shaped by nature’s hand,
swaying gently,
like church bells keeping time
ding, then dong,
rising and falling in your lace,
rising and falling as I watch,
stirring thoughts that once slept,
waking wonder without sight,
strong in dreaming,
strong in waking.

Two young apples still,
twins by nature’s design.
Will I ever taste them?
Will I ever truly know?
I asked you softly.
When the moment is ripe,
you answered quietly,
then turned away,
leaving time to choose.

Thanks for stopping by

Cover image prompted by Grok Ai