Poem Rapture

I read, that it is an early habit, but I have always been able to get lost in the words, poems, and devotions of others.
I can’t help the thoughts the feelings that bubble to the surface of me, my mind, my soul my consciousness…
Those brewing bubbling things, I loved them, I let them boil and bubble and froth, in just joyous delight.
I let those words, like music, wash the dust of every day from my heart and soul; it always left me wanting more.
They were not from a place of lonesomeness or fear.
I was in love with the feel of those needs, those wishes, mmmm the wantings, Dear God the desires,
I felt crazed, deliciously intoxicated… infatuated
It came to me eventually that I am not crazed but that I am indeed infatuated with that shining ideal of love,
I have fallen into a deep abiding love with the simple feeling of love; oh, the idea of being in love.
After reading, I feel enthralled and encapsulated with the words and phrases and thoughts.
I want to keep it.
to grasp it,
touch it
hold it tenderly,
and on those days when there is no hope, I want to seize it the concept itself, in an iron fast grip.
I know that to grasp it in a stranglehold would only deprive the idea of the air and life that it needs to take root.
I know somewhere, even if just the apex of my imagination that beautiful concept is mine.
As I stare at the silver face of the moon as he traverses the sky.
I knew he holds my secrets, but I know he has those of his very own.
He the celestial being knows the inner workings of fate herself.
He watches with that knowing self-satisfied grin as it all unfolds, neither revealing neither my secrets nor fates.
Over that time, I slowly fell in love with the moon and his darling knowing grin,
or moreover, the soul that connected with me whilst they also spoke to the moon.
To them, the moon and him I am their wanting wish
but to the rest of the world entire, I am not even a cloud's shadow on an empty field.
How two minds can become infixed with raw love