Thunder Showers, Sleepy Heads, Diane Keaton

This was the last day

Of a long, much needed

Vacation.

A Sunday.

I awoke to the sound of

Rumbling thunder—

Zeus’s tummy growling.

Soon after, the rain

Ensued, like day following

Night.

Mother Nature could have been

Grieving the death of a

Complete stranger

In the next county,

So hard was this rain.

I turned on the light,

And my phone.

What a smart phone.

I cued up Joan Didion’s

“Slouching Toward Bethlehem”,

Picking up where I had been last

Conscious.

Lightning struck closely,

With the force and volume

Of a gunshot.

It jolted me for the briefest of

Moments.

Loud noises usually do.

Soon enough, I turned the light off.

And lay my head anew on my purple

Pillow.

I closed my eyes.

My breathing was slow,

Sweet, silent and sure.

I never dozed off.

All the while, the urbane

Voice of Diane Keaton

Echoed softly in my room,

Relating stories of the Golden Land

Of California.

The softness and peace of the moment inside

Was such a perfect counterpoint

To the tumult and thunder outside.

I love moments like that.

When you lose track of time

And maybe of place.

And you melt into the moment,

So sweet and soft

As a cloud of cocoa.

The first, tentative, uncertain kiss

Between me and you.

Loving the way your lips taste and feel

Against mine.

Kissing.

Again, and again,

Longer and longer, then harder,

Softer and sweeter.

Until the outside world drops away

And only you and me are left.

It is as if the concrete walls

Surrounding my heart have

Crumbled, the way earthquake

Might break down a dam.

And I feel all the love I have

Long, long  suppressed

Comes rushing out to flood my body.

I steal a glance at my hand.

Not sweating at all, though I

Had every reason to think it would.

Instead, the most beautiful gossamer white light

In the universe

Issues from my palms, like floodlights

Shooting into the black October sky.

We are literally lighting our

Lives

With the love we are making.

Now we are nude.

Now nothing can come between us.

I am swimming in your cobalt blue eyes

And losing myself in your brunet hair.

Your knowing, loving, incandescent

Smile

And the hand you place on my heart

Are a silent, sexy signal.

And so

I ease into you.

Now we are one.

One unit, one being.

One united and holy thing.

I have become the light I have beheld

For all my life.

I want this ecstasy, this satori

To last a million years,

Rather than a few minutes.

You are whispering sweet, chocolate thoughts

Into my ear

In a language only we can understand,

And in a deep, purring voice.

As if a switch goes on,

I let loose.

I scream, and so do you.

Long and loud.

We have become primal beings,

We are stronger, more impassioned, and

Wilder than the real world

Could ever let us be.

And then the screams subside.

We lie there.

Spent, sublime and sated.

The light rises again.

Only now, the sky is bluer,

The grass is greener,

And the sun does not burn,

It caresses.

Again I lose myself

In your captivating,

Magical face

And the words finally come.

“I love you.”

ON A PHOTOGRAPH

Now I see the photo

Even in my sleep.

Her stunning smile,

Her fiery hair,

And the smile that could

Light the path to heaven.

Irradiating goodness,

She points at me,

Telling me what mere words

Cannot.

She knows I

Am the one to watch.

She feels my worth

And wonder.

Her smile comes as easy

As an angel’s.

And I feel her belief

And her pride in me,

No matter how much or

How little we know

Of one another.

I now carry that photograph

In my heart

The way you might carry

George Washington in your

Wallet.