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heartwordsforpoetry

Poetry from my heart

To Be Remembered

 

Even this has passed,

But all too soon.

It has left yet

Is not forgotten.

It remains in touches

Scents and feelings,

In bright white smiles

Hiding the truth.

Soft kisses smother the sadness for

What could have been.

And so it has become only a tool

To be used, a means to an end.

 

Now it is nothing more than a silence to be heard, and

A touch to be remembered.

  

Unnoticed

 

The magic of the night.

The brilliance of its darkness, the darkness of its light.

My soul is deep in the arms of midnight

Too deep to see,

To blind to know, with cries

Too silent to be heard.

I am astounded by the simplicity of the night,

But shocked by its truth.

So much time has passed with too little thought.

Now it is gone,

Forever to remain  – unnoticed.

Summer Sunday Evenings

There comes a soft sadness with

Summer Sunday evenings.

 

A time of day that remains empty unless full,

Lonely unless shared.

 

One week’s ending is

Another’s beginning.

 

Just as his absence is just another ending

And his staying away just another beginning.

 

My lonely heart aches and

Forgotten tears fall in silence as

 

My memories of him are left to collect dust in the corner,

Their silence speaking volumes.

 

No one else cares,

No one else remembers, and still,

 

The soft summer sadness of Sunday afternoon silence

Continues without end.

The One That Became The Last.

 

The sky is happy to hold you,

While the earth still mourns your leaving.

 

Time does not heal,

Emptiness lingers here.

 

The scent of the grass,

The wild flowers’ blooming procession marks the time but knows no past or future.

 

This place is the eternal now

As it was when you and I walked here together.

 

At sunset the sadness dampens the grass and holds still the heartbeat of remembrance.

Yet in spite of time and sorrow, this place remains unchanged.

 

It holds its breath, its heart waits

And sighs and wonders why.

 

Why can the sky hold you so close while the earth and my heart long for your footsteps,

The sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, the light of your smile.

 

And when the sun sets and the horizon grows dark

And takes you away from me, again,

Do you remember the first time?

The one that  became the last?

What Is

 

The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as the

Rain falls in sheets and slides down the roof and over its edge in a curtain of water.

Tree leaves dance with the weight of the rain and

Flowers wash their faces in its freshness.

The sky is lower on rainy days and

Holds us close to the ground.

Sounds are muted and muffled and

Light is defused in grayness.

But it is not a sad and depressing grayness,

But soothing and peaceful,

Full of necessity.

A rainy day, soft and dark, begs us to stop, rest and be mindful of our surroundings and loves.

It reminds us to take the time to be lulled by the patter of rain on the windows

Into a place of inner stillness,

And there remain, content to just be and accept what is.

I Am Grateful

 

When anger leaves, disbelief fades

And my heart takes a deep breath and feels a new peace.

Inside I feel different, sad but different.

The shift in conscious that I have longed for has taken over my being.

I have learned through experience that I won’t die…

That this is not what will kill me and as a consequence I know 

I can accept that it will be what

It will be, or maybe not be at all… and that either way, it is ok.

Anger has left,

Disbelief has faded and, unexpectedly, peace has returned.

For this I am grateful. 

(this is a re-post from two years ago – with edits)

Owls

They are nothing less than silent, swooping, gliding,

Magic,

Whose calls echo through bare spring trees

And color my nights with beauty.

One calls and waits.

The answer to come when it will.

With each call, the distance lessens between their

Voices in the night.

That which fills my night heart with light and joy,

Fills the hearts of others with fear.

It is the fear of ending.

An ending that comes out of the sky

In silent, swooping, gliding, magic.

The magic of beauty or,

The magic and freedom of death.

After All

 

It rolls out in waves from

One thought to another.

It remains as one heart flowing into the other

Then back again to me.

It travels by glowing starshine that lights its way

Through the darkest nights only to

Leave me at dawn as sunshine brings back the true sight,

Sound and taste of its love.

But as it leaves, its absence is not sad as the void left behind is open,

Open to every other possibility love can explore.

It becomes a love bigger than me in spite of its misplaced attention

And I see that it was meant for me, after all.

Always

His hands at the center of my back

Touch the center of my being.

My hands draw him in,

Deep into my heart and soul.

We are two separate beings

joined in one existence.

It is an existence that comes and goes

is here and gone.

It is empty yet full.

We are together but always alone.

Maybe it is too much.

Too lovely, too sweet and smooth,

Deep but never whole.

Always over, again and again and again

But always just beginning.

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