Mystic Sunset

Leaves fade
green to gold and orange,
deep crimson, too.
Blackberry gin on lips,
summer blinks away but
I still crave the taste of you.
Patchwork and grace,
leather and lace,
mountain peaks drenched
in neons streaks,
pink and orange,
sunset smeared
with a hint of lavender.
Silk caresses
before stars emerge.

We run wild,
we run feral,
but we will never
run away.

You keep me safe.
I’ll show you freedom.
Full moon howls,
shadows lingering
around a bonfire.
Mason jar of gin,
blackberry lemonade,
dancing in the dark
before the river’s lullaby
takes us to sleep
on a bed of flowers,
beneath a blanket of night.

Mountains reign mighty,
mountains stand tall,
but it is where we find
our rock and roll souls.

The sun sets as the moon rises.
They glimpse each other in the sky
before parting again
and off all the people,
of all the encounters
that could have happened
beneath their celestial dance,
somehow, this weary road,
this nomadic soul
found a way to you;
steady hands that calm,
the voice that soothes.
A solid ground so old,
it never questions.

Love is ancient.
Love is mystic.
It will never
abandon its altar.