Dreamy Hammock Poems (Part 1)

In a sea of people,
in a world of noise,
it’s your eyes that I find 
effortlessly.
I exit the contours of my body 
and find myself weightless 
and shapeless,
moving through you
softly.
Can you feel me?
I make a circle around your aura
and settle on the tip of your nose.
Your presence is a quiet haven,
even when my mind is howling.
I tune into your frequencies
to absorb the calm. 

I can sense turbulence 
under the cloak of tenderness,
and it paints the experience
in mossy green.
But I don’t mind.
Amber hues peek through contradictions.
Or maybe complexities is a better word
for this push and pull
of desire and restraint.
I pause - 
and wonder if there is a way to
encapsulate an experience,
in words or otherwise,
without evoking captivity.
Or are open skies 
the only acceptable ceiling 
to an already indescribable state
of ephemeral alignment?

Maybe there are no colors or words
or tangible ways
to remember this moment in time,
and it’s meant to be as transient 
as this cottonwood puff 
that just landed on my chest.
And maybe,
like a line drawing,
our lives are open ended stories
even when the endings seem predictable.
So I take a pen and create another swirl
to stay here for a little longer,
searching for your eyes
in a sea of people and the world of noise
until the buzzing stops,
and quicksand slows,
and I fall asleep
within a dream.