Inner Stillness in Predawn Darkness

There is inner stillness in the predawn darkness as

The forest begins to stir around me.

 

They seem to notice my presence

“Someone is among us”, they mummer.

 

As I sit in silence and wait,

The Eastern sky begins to lighten and

 

The earth responds with movement,

Air movement, a stirring, ever so slight and gentle,

 

More sensed than felt.

I continue to sit in silence and wait.

 

At last I can feel them coming closer, one by one.

Not in outer distance but in inner peace.

 

As they circle me I can feel them saying “Welcome”.

They bring such wisdom in their silence.

Such kindness without motion or audible voice

 

But a voice nonetheless, a voice that is felt with the soul

Not heard with the ears.

 

A voice that is eons old, no, older than that:

A voice that has existed since the beginning of time.

 

Since the time before manifestation.

Their voices speak to me in the sweet darkness of the woods

 

Telling me a tale of love, acceptance and kindness.

A story of life, of the essences of loss and the pain of suffering,

 

Of the agony of misunderstanding and mind induced perceptions, and

Selfish longings and needs: all of my own making.

 

But there is sympathy and empathy in these voices too, they know the pain,

They have felt the suffering, tasted the tears and watched their own hearts melt with disappointment.

 

The agony of loss is no stranger to their collective heart, so they truly understand my

State of mind today and give me comfort and love in a way only they can.

 

They know how I miss he who passed through the veil, they know him and he them. They are one together and it is his presence they allow me to feel here in this mourning morning softness.

 

The trees are my saviors; they surround me with their gentle strength and hold me in their arms

In the hardest of times, they understand without judgment, they feel my heart beat with theirs

 

As they stand together – silent sentinels of everlasting light and hope in

Noble silence and truth.

 

I am renewed by their strength, honored by their kindness and

Forever grateful for their love.

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It Doesn’t Matter

Don’t tell me you can’t,

Can’t is a lie

Can’t is a choice

Tell me you won’t

At least that is honest. 

You can, I know you can.

You have before, or was

That a won’t, or maybe just a should.

Could always be a should and

Maybe even a won’t too but,

There is always that “but”.

Always that lie.

Always the “I can’t”.

But this time it doesn’t matter because,

I won’t. 

The Other Side

It is a hard, windy January night.

The dark is deepest this time of year with

The forest asleep, the sky swift, the stars icy and

The snow hard and crunchy under vacant feet.

For now, I am safe on this side of the frosted glass.

But later, when my eyes close, the cold will sneak in and hold me captive in its icy grip.

It will seep into my dreams and turn my tears to ice.

It will remind me of the coldness on the other side and of that empty space in my heart.

The one that used to be filled by you.

The One that Became the Last

 

The sky is happy to hold you,

While the earth and I still mourn your leaving.

They say that time heals but all these years have not healed my heart and

The emptiness of your absence remains strong within me and here in this place,

 

Although this field where I stand remains the eternal now

As it was when you and I walked here together.

The scent of its grass brings my heart and memory back to you every time and

Makes me wonder if the flowers blooming here remember our footsteps and loving among them?

I visit here often and breathe in the scent of this place and remember what it held for us, just you and me, and then I hide behind that memory’s peace where my heart is soothed, but only for just a while.

And at sunset, sadness returns again to dampen the grass and hold still my heartbeat in that remembrance.

Yet despite the passage of time and depth of my sorrow, this place appears to be unchanged

From when we walked its paths together, hand in hand as if we had all the time in the world.

But when I look deeper, I know it is unchanged on the surface only and, like me,

Still holds its breath and waits, and sighs and wonders why…

Why does the sky get to hold you so close while it and my heart long for your footsteps,

The sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, and the light of your smile?

The answer never comes and as

The sun sets and the horizon grows dark

And takes you away from me, again,

 I wonder…

Do you remember the first time?

The one that became the last?

Sunrise Lover (this is a favorite from a few years ago. Reading this always brings me back, back to that lovely place in the past)

My Sunrise lover sleeps in

Soft, warm darkness.

As sunlight filters in at dawn and

The room brightens, his form slowly comes into being,

Emerging from the rumpled pile of bedclothes.

He is smooth, warm, dark and lovely.

I lie next to him, my face resting against his.

In the early morning’s half-light I can just make out

His eyelashes, resting on his smooth cheeks.

His noble nose is outlined by the

Light spilling in through the window.

His lips are beautiful and full,

Soft and sweet.

And as the room continues to lighten,

His breathing quickens and his body stretches.

I move away from him just a bit

To take in his whole being.

He is strong, lean and beautiful,

All I could ever want or need.

He must feel my presence and

His eyes flutter open.

His smile, at seeing my face so close to his,

Is so beautiful and welcoming,

As if to say he missed me while he slept.

Star Soul

Star shine drips from the night sky and runs along the naked winter tree branches like syrup

Leaving iridescent trails of silver to wrap around the rough barked trunks.

The sliver shine lights my way

As it spills star souls on the forest floor and

While I follow the star trails, eons pass in an instant and eternity sleeps

In the soft warm glow of acceptance and starlight.

The cold surrounds my soul and heart in these winter depths but the

Dense air adds clarity to my vision as I walk the trails of stars.

They take me to a different place, a place at once new and ancient,

A place to observe all in silence while cloaked in the winter wood.

I see mosses hold their breath in the glow of the star-flow and hear them whispering their secrets to a silent waiting cosmos while holding tightly to the trunks of the trees.

Late geese fly across the moon, their cries urgent in the night sky

Confused by the uncommon shimmering silver ground below.

I am not alone in this realm of silver winter as

The forest is full of the souls and spirits of summer’s love.

I feel them all around me, darting in and out of tree shadows,

Stopping to watch me from behind drifts of truth and light.

The discarded autumn leaves warm the soil beneath the drifts

And life waits in patient stillness.

My mind becomes as still as the waiting life as I travel the empty space between the stars reflected in the snow’s white depth.

There is no urgency in me or in this place

Only the beauty and silence of peace and star light.

The winter forest is a secret,

A complete world in and of itself hiding in plain sight.

Its silence a decoy to protect its love lying safe and secure underground.

Go to the forest; breathe in the silent dripping starshine,

Follow the starlight as it traces the outline your soul.

Blend with the magic of the forest as

It is only there under the canopy of eternity that you can become as silent and still

As the dense crisp air surrounding you and once again, as in the beginning,

Go home to that place within that holds you in the soft silver glow of now and

Within that silent place returns you to wholeness.

The soul of the winter forest knows and understands you.

She is waiting for your return.

Soft Sadness (April 2015/with edits)

The silence of midnight is

The silence of wanting.

It is dark and lonely. 

A time soft with sadness

Until the memories sneak back in

and bring with them a scent, or a look

And it is almost enough, almost

But not quite.

 I know I will long for that touch

That voice, that look,

Until once again he comes back and turns the silence of longing

Into loving.

A time when my sorrow will be erased by his touch,

His hand in mine and

His kiss will fill my sole like

A light in the darkness.

Yet again…

Still,

I know, as I have all along that 

The darkness will return and

He will never be mine to keep.

Loneliness at Dusk (re-post from 2015)

He is still here at times, but in body only

His soul has left me.

I miss him most at dusk, when the day’s work has ended

And evenings past times have yet to begin.

Those times in our past when dinner was cooking in the kitchen and

Warm light filled the house.

When before dinner we would walk hand in hand through the

Gardens, across the fields to the edge of the wood

Where the songs of night

Drifted in from the forest and filled our senses.

The essences of early evening,

A feeling more than a time wherein.

We were love and completeness.

We would finish our dinner in the kitchen and

Take our wine to the porch and watch as

The last light faded from the landscape while

The sun’s glow lingered in the treetops.

Evening deepened and the world stopped spinning.

All was calm, all was quiet. And when the hour was late,

We would climb the stairs together and

Sink into our inviting bed.

He always began by sliding his hands over my body as

An expression of his love.

I could feel the heart of his passion

Against my lips.

As his smoking soul ignited the

Fire in my heart,

We would come together in light and love.

The passion almost too much to take as

He whispered words of love and lust in

My ear and held my body and life together in his arms.

It was at those times that my soul threatened to spill out of my body

And wash away in the heat of the moment,

But his strength held it back

Covering it with his love, protecting me from myself.

And each time, as the lovemaking ended and his body

Lay hot and limp on mine,

I would look into his eyes and know,

Just know, that the world, our world, was as it should be.

In that moment I had no darkness to fear, no sadness to run from

Could feel no distance between us in the night.

Instead, the darkness was comforting in its

Completeness, the totality of its effect sealed our fate each and every time.

But in spite of the lust, the passion and heat, in spite of

A love that felt as if it transcended time and space

There came a change.

A change that for me meant an emptying of hopes, an end to dreams, and the pain of knowing that after all the sincerity in the darkness,

It was just a lie and my love would never be returned.

And so it remains a love, a hope, a memory and a dream held only by one

Struggling to survive in a lonely bed at dusk.

A Perfect Autumn Afternoon

The cottage windows were frosted at daybreak and with the cold morning sunlight,

My skylight became a witness to a shower of golden leaves falling on the roof.

A gentle creaking and crackling came from the wood stove as

The flames warmed it and me from within.

Baked beans simmered in the oven for hours

And filled my house with delicious aromas.

Now, as the afternoon shadows grow longer, I am warm and toasty in my robe

With a half-knitted sweater on my lap while

All around me is softness, warmth and peace.

A perfect Autumn afternoon.