Dance with a Poet

As he writes his spirit glides across the paper leaving his imprint on her heart and mind
He speaks from a place she has not visited yet familiar nonetheless
His words dance with her, eliminating the need for a formal introduction
Ordinary questions unnecessary for his essence touched her being centuries ago.

She sits in her stillness unsure as to how or why.
Her ability to feel sometimes frightening her still.
Witnessing pain exploding through pixels and speakers, too intense to be contained.
So she reaches out.
Taking her curiosity and intrigue by the reigns
Aware of her ability to ease the pain
She wants to Love his hurt away, that sneaks from his eyes behind smiles
and finds its home at his side when all are asleep.
She wants Him to know,
There are others like Him. He is not alone.
God embodies many, few ready to give Him voice.
Not willing to accept their Godliness and sit upon their throne.

He carries Him inside, words writing themselves manifested from places never seen, rather felt by these often hidden Chosen Few.
Spirit enters, Heart pumping, pushing blood through veins, into hands which profess Undeniable Truth.
Living proof the body is only what we see.
You are Alive my friend. You are Alive.

Breathing deeply, God enters her, this mission to Love overwhelming for a soul trapped in a limited body, bound by time and space.
She sends her spirit to kiss his face in his sleep, caress his forehead, and somehow ease the weight carried by the Ones still left standing.

It is the Angels with callings others are unable to comprehend.
Embarking on a path, often chosen not, rather suddenly given to them.
She sees and feels him deeply, willingly be his friend and muse.
And so she gives her heart permission to share this sweet juice.
Nectar of Life
Ever-nourishing
More than enough Proof.