Mysteries Need Not Be Mysterious

You enter me through mysteries
That come to rest inside my heart
Like obsidian shadows from another soul
You brush gently along within me,
Softening luminescence –
an intuition of who we are – not told
You breath, Leaving a trail of nostalgic aromas
Of honeysuckle and dew on the moss
You glisten along the nexus of moment to moment

Like pearls strung together and touching sweetly
Clattering like chimes, pattering
A string of quiet satin kisses
that go on incompletely
From distances beyond what may be measured
With provenance in the tears of angels
On pillows of time
I dream awake, entranced
I enter you, through mysteries
that cannot be seen, not blind

And while bells don’t ring it clear to us
They blend and blend…and blend
To glow from brilliant eyes –
low chimes sound like mysteries not mysterious.

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