Getting High [ all the senses agree ]

It’s called getting high and it’s why I wander
desire’s road, the one that goads the fires of freedom
to mark each highlight along the way. It’s a wondering
waltz with words that urge a sense of springtime’s renewal.
Now he loves me … now he does …the petals of poetic
pathos are plucked and tossed into the breeze with the ease
of letting them go for the glow of love’s transformation.
It’s sunlight slipping through a shadowed forest. It’s
a lone fiddler playing the haunting songs of yesteryear’s
memory. It’s that perpetual progress to the peaks of
mystique for the reward that expands the hand of
the poet and it’s he who takes me to the top. The present
tense presents the senses with a kaleidoscope of mirrored
rainbows that rise over the sighs of shifting winds and
remind me that love is life’s way of getting high.

Public Domain Image

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