An Echo Of words

A dream

where time follows triangles and ribbons 

through

moments 

that suddenly become a  physical place;

Gaia;

stillness

surrounds you

in a single heartbeat

within

a place reached 

by climbing each and every plane where "we" existed;

You smile

and 

the dream becomes real;

waves of geometry upon a canvas;

colour filling the spaces;

a dance of soul upon a  piece of stretched linen;

fountains of my thoughts finding your hands, your arms;

your soul intertwining with mine upon the brushstrokes of my  painting.

Lights in my studio flicker in the late hours of night.

The glass of wine stands upon my paint ridden table

blue and green reflecting in the red of irridescent liquid..

The strokes of my brush paint more and more;

elements of freeform waves;

intensity of colour;

intensity of soul upon the composition that is mine upon a piece of stretched linen.

In the late hours of night when dream and soul, emotion and logic become one

within

the memory of your blue eyes that held the wind in a midnight sky,

I transcend the sound of the wind and the seagulls

music flowing from my brush on to a blank canvas in the late hours of night.;

a streetlight;

an echo inside the winter wind..