"I have found her" we write poems #43-gaurdian angel

A crevice where Bougainvilleas once lived
has rain inside its heart, as the sun makes
its bon voyage it pulls away the heat.
Dark thunder crashes down from a bright sky.
Abbreviations form on fairy wings in a universal flight,
weaved through golden ominous shadows.
Lacy patterns of ice crystals tap as we stretch our
limbs to touch the farthest point of foundation.
Engulfed and swarming with presence …
she has shown her renaissance outline
of peace and solitude that covers me.
Blankness fills empty holes with enormity.
Dreams are intertwined with fascination of
lapidarists found in a monastery of repose,
as a drop of sweat falls from my brow
to make its scintillating pathway
known to observers of night.
Her violet eyes burn into my soul leaving me
pacification to wind round a weary heart,
while I listen to rain dripping from eaves’
fingertips of nature’s diatribe.