...it is bliss

The atmosphere here is, Etruscan bronze
I follow and feel, feebly at first
He says nothing,
No eye contact could be more clairvoyant
His fingerprints bear my signature too
We share no words, we never do
The volumes of understanding betwixt us
...they are enough.
I smell dark hair, unkempt and soft
Bovine in stature, steps taken are in earnest
I am diligent in the attending of his lead.
He walks with purpose interwoven with patience
That though we are aligned in this synopsis
It may yet take several more long moments
To find our mutual footsteps arriving,
At that porch where perception sharpens
...and I'm ready...
Ready to walk in and follow for the last time,
Into the entry of all tomorrows.

I am eager in  my recanting
Recollected again and again,
Embellished only by the presumption of why
Why such decadent imaginings reveal themselves to me
Over and over and over again...
These aren't dreams that plague my mental scope at night
They are memories of where I am headed...
Into a calm state of relaxed and contentment.
I see the figure who teaches,
He bears the outline of a Lover;
A match to rival nothing known
...and everything desired, craved and ached for.
Kind eyes that hold no damning secrets
Warmth pervading his every exhale
Imagine.............................................................
Ooh, I have and it is bliss
Bliss to mark the messenger and take care,
For tomorrow may bear gifts worth receiving
...and I want to be ready.