The silent swishing of the Spanish moss,
The Sun peeking between the leaves,
My heart swells and I release a sigh,
Of uncertainty, love and overwhelm.
The dusky haze, halos growing wine,
The Presence weighing warm and heavy.
The faintest spice upon my lips,
Equally fulfilling and melancholy.
River-wrought and filthy,
Bacardi purified within,
Bacardi purified within,
I close my eyes and accept it all.
His gentle fingers leave invisible scars on my skin,
And I'm old and I'm new,
And I'm young again and renewed.
Nothing is certain,
But his head
Laying bravely on my lap,
Conjuring words of beauty and devotion,
Creating a never-ending ocean.
Which he offers and takes,
In the quakes he creates.
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