Replete, strained, stretched, Filled sails, Your breath, bears voice, breeding words, Exhalation blowing journey's way. Your wind warms my still, And your calm's not quiet, A whisper on mirrored floor, This trip, this gift of you.

And I never tire of the butterflies, As fragments of cloth tethered by hair, Kissing floating water, Flutter scraps on jagged air, Morse coded memories, keeping time, recording my me, Feeding off hopes, and dancing with drops of the sea.

Your breath, your laughter, This wind of love, Where it's taking me? Serene as a dove, or steady headed gale, I travel your sea, under masted sail, This gift from you, To everything, that's me.