Something strong hits me then,
And now I'm gobsmacked by
God's creation.
But before this gorgeous run in,
I see you and take a breath.

Something about you,
Your wild, frenzied hair,
Your brusque attack and
frontal stride,
The Cut of your dress,
The Height of your boots,
The manner that you looked
and moved.

I was moved by you.
In that breath I wanted to
form a rock band, write
platonic, streaking songs
about love and war,
I wanted to amplify the
screams of jublilation
and jump into roaring crowds,
I wanted to be on that
stage and see you with
your wild hair and willful
ways just looking at
me like I was your saviour.

And I would smile knowingly
back because I knew that
I would never love you,
That you were my muse,
nothing else.


But in that same breath,
as you stand before me,
I wanted to run fleeing
into orchestral pits,
I wanted to lose myself
in the graceful chords
and violin strings,
to float up on cello solos,
to befriend the mourning
oboe, to swim up in
the dizzying heights surged
with power and fall softly
in sudden
diminuendos.

I wanted nothing more
than to hide in the corn
fields of Arias and
Symphonic melodies.

Because it's all ups
and it's all downs.
You see,

One minute you
gaze at the sun.

The next your
under attack.

And the breath

Breathes

Out.