This is crazy. I like to think I follow my instincts. I’m always right, or so I tell myself. Follow your intuition you won’t go wrong. Always that inner voice is tempered with a heavy dose of logic, or caution, of self-doubt. Here I sit miles above the earth headed for a new city.
Soft candle flickers lavender and jasmine into the air.
Wisps of smoke drift in a slow mist of abstract imagination.
Soft warm honey laughter dances with the mist.
A light caress of time with no beginning — no end.
Melding of spirit and thought into one.
At the intersection of light and dark, blank emptiness vanishes in brilliant unexpected hope.
Hand in hand gears click into place.
Strangers fade as new life blossoms.
Mischievous glances, quick snippets breath life into trust, love, peace.
It started with a simple non-event.
A crossing of paths from a distance.
Fate that intertwined the city streets.
One way signs here and there.
Lost in the maze of building shadows.
The shuffle and bustle of humans near and far.
The semi quiet of pre-happy hour.
Guests trickling and popping up in pockets.
A glance across the marbled top buffered by colorful glass bottles.
A quick smile of recognition.
Thoughts of fancy, flights of dreams, timeless countless years zip by.