Arrhythmia

A Blooming rose,

A red sun, in clear skies,

In a perfect world,

With the sound of waves, 

And the songs of birds

And the words of poets

And in hearts untouched,

Without one stutter, without flinching once.

Can’t be put next to my other soul,

For the beauty of words, and the food for eyes,

Is not comparable

Felt with eyes,

Or perceived with ears.

You were,

Found without search,

Felt by the soul,

A heart that was beating,

To beat for us both.