I am the woman who walked your city

I am the woman who walked your city
To find you in between the layers of fog
Caught in the intricate and glistening weave of the spider’s web
A fine yet sturdy filament creating a design finer than man can imagine
In its midst a dewdrop precarious before its fall

In the diaphanous span of an insect’s wings
I find myself
lost in spirals of thoughts
Between the past and the future
I move into the knowledge that composes a seashell
Only the present actually exists

I am your city before you
In its meandering mystery of interwoven connections
In transit my thoughts arc the horizon
On their way to catch a passing plane

Action brings me to an onward transition
In which links in a chain suddenly propel me
Into another dimension

A watery world blue and misty contains my fears
Yet transformed into aspirations
Forms are thoughts that determine content
Like butterflies in flight

At the airport I lost my baggage—forever—
Here I wander led by my nose and toes

Somewhere there is distant music
And I know I will encounter all those
Who share a spot in my dreamworld

There is no denial
Only laughter
And sometimes a slightly larger dose of truth—
I swing in the full of things
Wishing for more—
My teacup close to empty
And the friends have gone to the beach

In the velvet night I make
A chain of thoughts as though they were
Paintings—images—poems

Tomorrow I am back at the airport
To be transported into the city of time
Where minutes eventually add up to days and sometimes even years

For now I look at you in this moment
In which my cup is half empty
And yet the feeling inside radiates of fullness

Tomorrow always comes
And my heart then may sing to the dewdrops
Or shed a tear in reminiscence of the child
Who visited and has now left

[In her red cloak she came and went
Left the blues in me
And a trace of emptiness
That wafts into the dampness of this November air

In this city mine and yours
We hold each other tight
And know our sun is shining]

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