I thought I would reprint one of my poems (for lack of anything more interesting to write).
I heard a hundred wild wings
rushing when I saw you
And I felt a hundred wild things
when I touched you
I feel the brush of a hundred winds
rustle the tall grass when you spoke
I feel the drum of a hundred rainstorms
beating down on me with each beat of your heart's stroke
Together we are impossible and perfect
and made of a thousand things
None of which we can see.