At man : Atman

I am this lover
of a warm stream of rain on the rocks
beneath airy toes. The sprawling stones
of a mountain splattered
in lichen sing brilliant lime tales
of an underwater gala.

I am this climber
of midnight falls: a storm
distilled and roaring- an August lion
baring his gleaming peril-
a flashing swath thru the forest
where we became ninja frogmen- eager
night spelunkers cooled by moss and mud,
sleek in the gushing black.

I am this guide
of children who come reaching
into a world of forms and colors;
they speak about toys and angels
with the same eyes. They laugh
and we grow wise.

I am this brother
to glowing heroes- wild, old,
modern beyond time-
ever on top of time; our mountaintop moments
flesh out the words and pictures
for The Epic.

I am this dreamer.
Of Love. Wanting it
to unfurl from a striving woman
who is strong in my grasp
then stronger standing from it-
to leave me gasping, lunging
for more cosmos hiding
within her, bringing me to her;
I call out as I fall;
her eyes reflect a star
that shines my blues to luster.