Almost like it didn't exist
until I shared it with you.
Rainbow, parrot, twenty year old story.
Counterpoint in the tumbling notes,
metallic beetle on the fencepost.
This poem
capering close to high cliffs
not to be the first one who sees
a huge sailing ship appear
(that would be joyous of course)
just to live through the actual moments
an imperceptibly moving huge sailing ship appears.
And in dreams,
to lay sweating on the wooden deck at night.
Run to the creaking rails
straining with superhuman eyes.
Not to be the first who sees
long lost hills rise majestic in any language.
Just to quake and melt from those emotions
bereft halves wade through for reunion. 
Long Live Love.