There is an esoteric slant

in the immediacy of her demeanor.

With rainbow-hued, multi-faceted

crystals for eyes, she catapults

the marrow in my bones

into the fifth dimension.

She ‘s a manifesting magnet

that makes my dreams come true,

soothing my soul into a supreme

state of bliss when she allows me

in to her intergalactic world.

There’s no going back to my life

as it was—zig-zagging, aimless,

boring as a sleeping snail.

She wouldn’t say yes, and wouldn’t say no,

she wouldn’t say stay, but wouldn’t say go.

Overwhelmed by her bodhisattva scent,

I promised to be good to her.

I planted a lush garden of roses

to sweeten the air that she breathed.

When the flowers continued to bloom

in a falling December snowfall,

she felt it was a good omen

and promised to be good to me.

Milton P. Ehrlich