A northern wind bends time
into microseconds that converge
through windows of eternal light and rain.
Sleet becomes the hypothesis;
echoes in the stream of invisible particles not yet understood.
Time crosses dark spaces and sunsets
combining into sunrises before the seagulls fly away into a nocturnal sky.
The wind chases the whisper of a silence borne of the element of time.
We can close our eyes
and for one uncharted moment
walk backwards into the blue of the past.
Holding fast onto the stream of wind,
light follows flight into the arms of a seagull.
And there you stand upon a lava field in an icelandic winter
your black coat sheltering you from the sleet that caresses your face.
Your eyes so blue,
your voice so deep,
winter in a summer storm.;
summer in a winter storm.
a sigh within the heartbeat of a microsecond;.
your smile holding mine in a crystal of rain