What does it feel that breath beyond the possible? When dreams built of fantasy are replaced by content based foundation. Men describe that which is beyond stars, around mountains, found in desert passage to realms only thinkable.

A wink, nod, gesture or relief when all has been given, traded or dealt. The final card tossed, waiting for that quiet name to pass the lips of auctioneer. Excited children promised a mid summer night’s dream only now knowing the impossible.

We sing in voices found outside experience, deeper that cavities rich and muscle’s trained for season. New words as plums ripen, sweating in the promise of cool, autumn eve. Where are the days left to ponder or reason when all is foretold?

No longer reaching for subtle untold embrace but coveting the rich hugs of tomorrow and the day after. Fellows fond and welcome ladies having readied for prayer and a delight in worshiping the King. For there are some things unquestioned.

Amber’s roasted and turquoise tickled by the first morning fallen. Hidden in the Jalapeno forest, soft and supple sweet but caution to the welcome palate. Dive down to bottoms sounding cautious of the skin to rock or never coming back.

Then and whence we are beckoned and respond. Found in the wakeful days of memory when all was new, fresh and out of the ordinary. Trusting the familiar until our hearts remain sickened. We were promised that which resides beyond the knowing.