Yin Yang Fandango

5/20/15

Poetry flows through the door and
hangs in the air like a cloud of smoke
huffed out of one of those
hookah pens that half the people
carry around here.

This is the place where community
is more than friendships and distant connections,
where we reach up to the stars
and somehow try to keep them in the sky.

This is where we will wait under bridges
for our soul mate,
offer shade to anyone when we don't
even know their name.

Here, we will climb black mountains together,
interlocking our arms in a chain link line
riding the hills and valleys of hardship.

We put wheels on tea pots
and took off for outer space;
a tour of the cosmos
in a race towards infinity
that will continue past the end.

We compliment the Yin
with a Yang of our own,
winding around towards the center
in our own harmonic chaos.

We create our own adventures,
dance around life's journey
in a fiery tango of
ever changing steps
and smoldering footprints,
because the scars we bare
are our badges of
just how far we've come.

We leave our marks on each others' minds,
and wait for whatever genius
will ensnare our thoughts this week,
weaving spider webs with words
and laying traps for inspiration
until someone comes along
and takes our breath away.