Sky Blue Sky.

For Mat.

If I close my eye lids, I see you, way up yonder on your mountain top, all heart on sleave, surrounded by creeks, forests and the subtle whisper of the storm.

I think of you when the sailboat arrives at her harbour of stars. When the seafaring moon winks at me and reminds me to never let go of my dream of you, and it is so… crimson.

You teach me to look at the stars, how each one is unique in it’s beauty, and that I have to look at all of them, because the little one behind the cloud will cry, If I don’t give one more second to smile at him too.

You teach me the value of wisdom, real wisdom, and together, I learn to un-rehearse the play lines, and find the real ones, the words that matter.

I gaze at the delicate way you talk to the moon, the way you listen to the wind when she needs you, The way you can’t see your own reflection in the lake when we fish, because the lakes beauty makes you humble.

But this crimson dream, this cherry land, where our colour and love, and hearts burn brightly and truthfully like the supper lights, is but a daydream, a magical kingdom that exists parallel to our own world, that I cannot touch.

But I will wait, dreaming of you.

My love.

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