Writing

Windows
by Ironhand

the glass pane cold on my cheek
my breath fogs the glass
images of the forest,
melt into the sound of rain on forest leaves.
i have visions of you at our special moments.
drifting across time and space i come unannounced.
i visit with you —
do you feel me close when i am there?
quiet thoughts of you…
sometimes i just watch, make sure you are safe.
at times i will touch your shoulder, to let you know i am there
and other times when i am alone.
i send you a song on the wind of my flute.
the music has no name nor has it ever been played before.
my eyes closed, i send songs of love,
of the eagle soaring on the wind or the gentle mist on forest fern.
it is dark today,
clouds filled with rain share with the mountain forest, life’s drink.
the thunder rumbles across the ocean to the west
and through the forest.
traveling from one side to the other as if to
hurriedly join me on my travels.
silence now except for my breath still fogging the on the cold glass
and the sound of rain falling on the trees….
my thoughts again return to you
i miss you.
__