Kindred Strangers - Scene 01

Poetry is always a collaboration of so many parts of yourself, a poetic conversation in this case, between male and female. The conversation is ongoing, and as in any conversation, the length and outcome are still in play.

 
KINDRED SPIRITS

Scena Un: Piazza

He sees her across the piazza,
Two thousand years at her feet
Along with a flock of pigeons.
Her spring dress a sunsplashed sparkle,
Renewal defined by grey stones,
She tosses bread to the pigeons.
Her legs crossed so demurely
Part on the steps as she throws.
Beyond the pigeons she sees him.

Hand casually pocketed
His rugged face a lightening strike
Against her battered soul
Inspires unexpectedly a pulse
Like beating wings overwhelming her
Renewed desire thought long gone
Ancient as the stone on which he stands
Welcome as sun on her shoulders
Ethereal as smoky wisps above the piazza

A moment past, her legs had held him,
Now their grip is broken by her eyes,
And by two hundred pigeons taking flight.
A moment passed, some hours are shorter,
Not a breath or blink, no sense of time,
While all around them shadows wheeled with light.
Even the piazza's statues seem to pause
A moment. Past the wings was that a smile?
Or his desire projected on her lips?

His gaze holds her as if bewitched
Her spirit lifts on pigeons’ wings
Zephyr kissed skirt hem tickles her thigh
Light wheels spin and shadows twist
Frozen moment etched in stone
In all the world, this man alone
Has reached across her tundra soul
To rekindle embers out of glacier spills
White-hot moment; he grins, she smiles at him

Frozen piazza, whirlwind light and wings,
Suspended like time in amber.
A single movement, the fluttering skirt,
Draws his eye, a cape to his bull.
A lacy shadow flickers up her thigh.
Like shattering glass, an explosion of wings,
And the spell is broken, his stare apparent.
How long? A moment. How long is that?
He looks to find the answer in her eyes.

No time, no thought, don’t hesitate
Takes two steps, this is crazy, wait
Draws deep breath, casts out fears
Self imposed chastity over two years
Slowly deliberately shifting her weight
Clicking of sandal heels measures her gait
Sway of her hips, inviting his stare
Extending her hand, she looks in his eyes
Finds awe, passion, gentleness there

The pigeons all settle, grey leaves to stone pond,
She steps. That's everything he needs to know.
His steps mirror hers, as an unseen bond
Pulls them down the steps to the piazza below.
Their eyes never losing their diamond-sharp gaze,
Each passing step is a journey complete.
Pigeons half seen through a warm sun-swept daze.
Moving like ripples out from their feet.
A parting Grey Sea where the two circles meet.

Divine intuition says nothing to fear
Generous intentions perfectly clear
Hand in hand she feels his pulse rise
Racing the heartbeat between her thighs
Can’t stop a tornado don’t stand in its way
Tsunami emotions wash all doubt away
If she’s going to do this, now is the time
She presses him close and whispers sublime
My name’s Syndra. Your place or mine?

His desires rise, hearing her words in his ear,
It's certain she feels it, she's pulled him so near.
She presses against him, and smiles in his eyes.
He answers, a slow motion grind as he sighs.
Time has cast them as lovers before they've met,
The rain in the air, the leaf not yet wet,
But so unmistakable, both feel it fall,
As the scent of it in their souls holds them in thrall.
Luc, he says. My place? It's not far at all.