The undone workings of love

I close my eyes
That to become illusory
Furnished by wine
I peruse the changing lights
The samba the rumba
The floating dance floor

Into the darkness of light
Inside my imagination
There without furniture
Without walnut or cherry
Or pine or mahogany or timber
Or sawn up packing crates

I am still without walking
Movement now stationary
Without desire
A pause in the journey
A reflection of the sunrise
Sunsets set in past pastures

Into the lightness of being
Deep streams of clear water
Thoughts of worthy tasks
There to be undertaken
Thought slips of the faking
The undone workings of love

A Poem from He waits for the Season - Her reason is clear available for Kindle from Amazon