Bean

In the fresh dew of the morning,
where droplets are born of condensation on the grass, 
life bursts forth, as flowers bloom in our garden
with the chasing sun,
giving flight to the waning moon. 

I wake to the images of you 
engraved on the walls of my thoughts
and as your taste lingers on my tongue, your aroma—sweetest aroma,
invades my nostrils,
taking up residence in my mind. 

Your lips find mine and kisses of life,
stretched out across time,
are reunited after journeys long taken.