Waiting

in her eyes I am an artist,

in her eyes I am special,

in her eyes I am so many things;

and so I am;

she defines the limits,

she sets the parameters,

she creates the boundaries,

within which everything abides;

I want to hold her next me,

my head pressed to her center,

my senses flooded with the magic

she has created,

my inner being filled with the spirit

of her light;

quietly I wait for her to rise,

sitting somewhere just beyond reach,

somewhere on a lookout high above,

a predator waiting for the coming dawn,

ready to feed on her morning energy,

that life may be sustained.

.

.