Her
Two currents pulled from opposite shores,
born of different skies, different days,
gathering speed over miles, over seas,
each with its own fierce, chaotic way.
Him
Gathering twisters to toss and turn
Blossoming into raging confusion
Typhoons and Hurricanes growing
Ideal mates to reach the conclusion
Her
And so we met, as storms collide,
tempests tied by unseen threads,
thunder on thunder, echo to echo,
in the wild places words are led.
Him
As two become one and form
A new world quickly appears
Slow fusion presents new life
A new world for Troubadours
Her
Not by plan, nor compass traced—
our paths were ours to find and roam.
Yet here we are, each like the other,
bound in this storm, no longer alone.
Him
Understanding peaceful insanity
Bound in this storm, no longer alone
We share the joy of forming words
Drops of ink presenting our poem
This weeks entry into The Beginning At Last’s NTT Post
is brought to you courtesy of Phoebe @ Drops of Ink &
Ernie @ The Dawg House.
This is our second collaboration and I thank you for taking the time to read. It is a pleasure to share a calming sea of words, to let minds meld thought into poetry. Phoebe, it is always a joy to collaborate with you.”
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Dawgy Daddy responds 