the high life

Nina Simone remixed and re-imagined rolls through the soft sweet night in waves like the pacific ocean caressing the shore of my consciousness.
This is a letter to You, to you out there, to you who never really witnessed me in the whirling winds of high life but who always knew this.
This is a letter to You, my love, my love who is lost among the crickets and moon beams, the roses who ooze love with every breath they give.
I can't wait. Can't wait to paint this, drape words around it, permeate and penetrate it with the sounds, the sounds of creativity.
Freedom is calling me with its highest and lowest voice, my hips can't stop moving, swaying intrinsically intertwined with the rhythms of the night, the night of the high life.
This is the moment I love best, to look into the mirror in complete awareness of my clear sober mind that drinks sweet sweet wine, the wine of beauty of this life, of dancing until there is tomorrow. Oh, Nina. Yes, yes, yes, I sing. I say, let it loose, let it go, cautiously flirting with the possibilities of shifting earth plates and consciousness.
There is nothing I really want to say or can for that matter. Words just means of transportation for the vibrations that elate us and spiral us ever deeper, ever higher, yeah, yeai, ye.
Kissing sweet lips of rosebudded souls and dancing joining hands with wild spirits, the high life as it was and always has been and ever will be.
One day I know we will wake up to a new reality and start a new day with new rhythms, new directions and reflections and to this day shall we dance, not missing one beat to be fully equipped and prepared for our souls to aim, to fly, transforming into beautiful new beings, ever and ever again.
Another high life.