Strands Of My Hair

They say things happen for a reason
It is what it is – so on and so on

I am a blank page, a clean slate
I believe it to be mine alone

My personally drawn life map
Day by day, sun shining – the sounds of a mourning dove’s coo

My likes, dislikes, love and lovers; friends or foe
The pages I write, scribble – doodle

Creating lines, swirls; words are my textured fabric
Worn like my favorite sweater, leather; ribbons and silk

My unique finger print – DNA without forensic influence
My extraordinary designs, black and white, sepia, shadows; rainbows

My distinctive story, tales spun; a series of vignettes
Your hand on my chest; the feel of my heart beating

The warmth of a kiss, a touch; the scent of your skin
Spontaneous, instinctive, intuitive, free-spirit(ed)

A spark, flutter, passion; wind blowing separating the strands of my hair
A deep breath, awe, inspirational sigh, no land in sight, the water…the tide

The script of my life; the bends and turns
Ups and downs. Preordained? Bewildered…

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