To: Night (From My Soul)

I find my comfort inside of you, for the day has ended…

I’m home… and the chaos that consumes the waking moments, now ceases to exist… yet there is no silence to be found in the stillness of my mind…

For I am yelling through the top of my heart from the depths of my soul so that my lips never part to speak of how I wish not to be alone… And the echoes of my thoughts bounce off of every corner in every room…

I listen to them whirl past me and feel them collide into my very being… and it is not pain that becomes me, but it is not very far off because the truths hurt… they are the sticks and stones to my soul…

And I wish to lie down, but there is no rest to be had… for the day has taken so much from me and given nothing in return that I seek sustenance to have just enough energy to shed my pain… but it has left me nothing but myself and no one to hold me…

So I reach out to you… you who envelops me in your cloak like dark blues that may hide my tears… you who has such vast space for words, secrets… fears and listen to them, then take them away for safe keeping… you who with just the coolest and gentle wind can massage the pressures of daily life out of me and into thin air…

As I close my eyes… I listen to you not judge me… I listen to you listen to me… I feel you reassure me that there will come a time when you will meet someone that reaches out the same as I do…

But that there has never been a single day that I have been alone…

So to the night… tonight… and until tomorrow…

I love you…

Petrichor

The sky darkens…

the veil of the day lowers itself unto the sea of civilization… should rain fall, our waters will become stirred…

we are wet but what if anything has been washed away… ?

should we find likeness in the substance that will inevitably touch us or flee in various directions just to save our appearance…

what is it that we see and what we sense that leaves us so disconnected… the very nature of everything drowned out by the flooding of everyday life, soaked stone and concrete fills the air with the aroma of synthetics… we long for petrichor… the very root for the design of life… if I’m wet I am washed so are you… nothing man made separates us and everything natural attracts us… so I gladly stand in the rain…

stand with me…

Sweetening Tea

It is a funny thing trying to let go of something as sweet and sticky as honey…

At first you want to rid your fingers free of it but rather than rinsing them you bring each appendage to your lips…

Extending your tongue and tasting the mellifluous liquid… becoming lost in its ability to surrender your motion…

giving you moments to think, to remember… to enjoy your now is a present, remembering your presents is a gift…

Be the flower to the bumble bee.

Black Widow

Should the widow need to poison to feed…

May the red hourglass sift sand as if it were honey before I take my last breath…

What is time if not taken… what is life if not lived in the moments that are presented and cherishing their presence?

Far from the darkness of a feared arachnid, the web casted trapped me in a suspended moment forcing me to look into your eyes and see your smile… only to want it all for myself….

I question myself asking how much time has passed… and even more so how could time do so, if I am to see not how much of it I have… but how if used carefully I could study and fall for every single thing about you…

Not quantity… but quality

A desire for an intense intent and a reciprocated emotion…

But I have time… if I have nothing else…

Victorious (No Reflection)

How many days have I gone around the sun?

Waking to a light that vanquishes the darkness so that I may see… one that tans my skin and warms my soul… letting me know that I am indeed alive… and in that I may breathe a sigh of relief knowing that for another day, I have conquered death…

Yet I cannot help but question why the days are so long and my time so limited… My toils leaving me with just enough left to sit down and think…

How far have I come? Should I choose to sleep, how long have I been gone? Where have I traveled only to be called back, staring life in the face just by looking into a mirror and witness the scars that no one else can see…

Questions I whisper so loudly that if there were a soul stirring, they come to stand still and remain silent… So that the only voice I can hear is my own, but the one that I feel erupts from the depths of where every answer to any question that I may have is written…

Looking behind me that I may see that past… and I am told, that all that has been left behind no longer has the strength in its hands to hold me down, but is now the rubble upon I have climbed to be in the present… a place where the mirror is no longer required for I know how I look and can see myself without it…

I will then walk to the window of my home and look out unto the world where I will see myself down the road… I will wave hello and extend my hand as to say please join me…

Where I will go is my future… one completely unpredicted but one that I believe in none the less… I can feel the smile on my face and the peace in my heart… another day has come to past and the spoils of war are mine…

Hear my battle cry… for I have won…

(LC14185)

 

The Book

Where was I when you found me?

Did I call out to your sense of inner desire to see… what am I to you?

If but a collection of thoughts, memories and dreams… I must ask… did you read them merely see them… though the words could only come from my lips…

Did you read between the lines of the sentences spoken to take in what I was saying to you… to see and observe not only that there was information being communicated but also that it was being shared… did you touch me or hold me… did I captivate you… I want to speak but my conviction to simply stare at you is so complex that speech is not necessary… you will see what I wish to know… what wish to say in my eyes…

how does that feel… are you touched… Will you remember me, or will I be forgotten… or forbidden… the very memory of me has no essence unless rooted to a part of you…

what am I… flip through my moments… share them back with me… refer to me in old age… for I am but an open book… with space for notes… and pages to begin new chapters.

Wishes (The Waves)

There was once a woman that wanted nothing more than to share her life with her other half… she was fine on her own, but the element of love supreme was her most coveted passion that she kept close to her heart. One day while walking along the lake she stopped and took in the scenery… the beauty of it all took her breath away amd drew tears of happiness. As a tear rolled down her cheek she whispered to herself  ‘the man of my dreams should also enjoy this… I never met him but I miss him’ and the tear dropped into the still lake. The ripples resonated for a bit and then seemed to fade away… on the opposite side of the pond a man was standing at the shoreline throwing rocks into the lake… on the last throw his wrist watch flew off into the water

“Dammit!”  he said and he began to wade into the cool waters. He searched around and found his watch but noticed that the water had a stronger current then usual. Before he knew it he was swept up in the waves that were not there before. When he awoke he was greeted by the woman that secretly wished for the man she loved. He asked not where he was but only her name… when she replied he grabbed her hand and together they looked at all that was around them and then he whispered ‘this is where I’m meant to be’

Distant

If you must realize anything, come to see that all that happens in your life is not meant for your eyes…

Be still and know that your vantage point abides at the very center of all things unexplainable…

Rest assure that when the time comes that you will travel further than your feet or any vehicle will ever carry you…

But there is no way by which this measurement can be taken… so in the meantime live your life…

Should the sun be shining, step into it and feel it’s song… should it rain, experience being washed from above… on the coolest days, take pleasure that you can breathe and that the sting is not that of death…

Laugh and play with family & friends and should you find yourself in the arms of another… love them…

Travel the world… then look inside and travel your world, see all those moments that were not wasted waiting… but well spent being.

At the end of the process of doing all of this, your journey will come to and end… then you will feel the blow of where the wind first blew…

You’ve gone so far… but returned home to love…

The Photographer (The Darkroom)

The conversation will end and every glance that could be sent across a table has been received, enjoyed and returned…

Smiles and laughter will linger in the air, haunting as if a memory begging to be held on to for fear of passing over to moments forgotten…

Take a picture and it is said that it will last longer…

But if that is the fate of becoming immortalized then let the photograph to be, not become… for I will only accept the passing of time, to take you from me… and I refuse to limit myself to but a thousand words when it comes to you…

Though it is extremely challenging to say anything more than you are so beautiful… Over time I will say it in so many ways, surpassing the thousands of words that most would stop because they figured enough has been said… Because they look at you and not in you…

I see you…

Knowing that all the pictures in the world could not possibly capture you… that they may perish in a fire, smear from being handled, damage from water… and fade from time…

That the actual you… will inspire a burning love… beckon to be held… may cry every now and again… and in time leave this world…

The day I met you, my soul took a picture of you and developed it in my heart…

 

(NNE14)

Devious (Thou Art a Villain)

Of what is beautiful…

Is that of which you have taken for yourself to draw from… only to return said things in ways that drive straight into my heart… and I am drawn to you, but you are withdrawn…

Was it that you captured me or my likeness?

So skilled in being able to produce portraits, displaying them to the world… but I beg you to examine your own works more closely to see if I was indeed sitting still… waiting for you to finish, impatiently pleading to see how you truly see me…

If you’ve ever seen me at all…

Close your eyes and think… let the absence of of my presence sink in and probe the darkness for my image…

Can you see me? Or shadows of might have been…?

Realize that in the time I gave to you… I was waiting for the perfect moment to give you my heart…

You thought you it was yours to take… But it has always been mine to keep…