Waves of Love

for those who find writing is meditation

Waves of Love

Love,
the crackling sparkles of light
making the picture of my pen-point dance
by the coffee cup on the shingle I share with

love,
the way the gods send
these thoughts through me, flowing
into tiny new valleys made by the point of my pen.

Love,
the way I wait patiently
for my eye to latch onto a lavishing
light of listening, listening to the strait channels of

love,
that I listen only because I hear,
waiting here, daunted by the potential, waiting
for the dawn to appear, rising over the horizon in a burst of

love,
the glorious sunlight splashing
on the beach of time, waves of
rays tucking under the curvy current of

love,
the energy pulling me and the
groundless sand of the hourglass,
into the sea as it crashes against

love,
falling into the next wave,
plunging beneath the wet salty wonder,
and trying not to gulp down the warmth of

love,
the fact the coffee has turned
warm, like the sea, just waiting
for a cause to cause commitment in me.