Impossible, Beautiful Dream

Love is

A weighty substance.

 

What is it made of and

Where does it come from?

 

Why is it for one and not the other?

And why can’t we choose?

 

It’s truth and meaning are hidden in mystery,

It’s pain evident in lies and tears.

 

How do we know when it starts?

Is there a moment when one can say “yes, love has begun”?

 

I think there is a warming glow, an inner heat and smoothness

To love’s beginning but

 

When it ends… then want?

I cry for wanting him, he cries for not wanting me.

 

Our grief is an odd mixture of sadness, anger and joy because after all,

Love and hate are just opposite ends of the same emotion,

 

One that can turn on a dime and oscillate endlessly

Between the ends all in the space of a second.

 

When he stood before me that last time, for just those few seconds,

The world around us disappeared and he was all there was.

 

My heart stopped as the magnitude of the reality

Of his absence outside of those seconds filled me.

 

As I watched him walk away, I felt the warmth of my love, my heart’s

Blood, drain through my feet and follow him like a shadow.

 

But he left it in the parking lot,

Unwanted and rejected as he drove away.

 

I saw it melt into a puddle behind him

Where it waited for me to gather it up and take it home.

 

Where did this love for him come from? I don’t know,

If I knew I would send it back as

 

It has not served me well. It was based on a dream,

An impossible, beautiful dream but

 

One that was flawed, and although I didn’t realize it, it never had a chance,

Because he and it were damaged goods right from the start.

Why

Canvas curtains with

Buttons of rice.

 

Small enclosures

Hold melting floors while

 

Starched souls stand in the corner and

Their judgments fly.

 

Half held truths

Debase the morning sky and

 

Silence screams in my eyes while

Cut grass fragrance pervades my thoughts.

 

When will it all come together?

When will it stop?

 

The quiet death

Underwrites my soul while

 

Soft subtle shapes

Shift and take me with them.

 

And when the shapes settle, the past becomes the one and only

Place where I can breathe.

 

But I can’t go back there and all else has failed.

Why did you come back? just to leave again?

 

Why?  Did you forget to take something? I can’t imagine what

There is nothing left.…

Be Still … Let It Catch You

He seems sad inside, an unhappy place.

There is a war that rages within, the sides are undefined.

His light has to fight to get out, and it turns cold in its struggle.

He is alone but his loneliness is crowded.

There is no room in his heart, it is full of useless memories,

Wasted space, rooms of used feelings, empty promises, broken dreams.

Nothing belongs only to him, just his, only his.

He tries to be universal, but his soul is battered and sore.

He dreams and wants but denies himself,

He holds tight as he pushes away, searching,

Always searching and seeking,

Stop… be still…let it catch you.

I can’t fix him but I can

Hold him and love him while he mends.

Teardrops

Teardrops resting in my eyelashes make stars of the candle flames

That dance before Krishna and Radah.

My heart melts like wax in their presence while

My soul longs for a love like theirs.

I search for the truth in him, I won’t give up, but it remains elusive

And hides behind his eyes.

So I wait and want, love and hurt and cry but

Still it hides.

It has not the courage to tell its story so it stays hidden from me in shame with

Lust its frequent disguise.

Be Amazed

Notes of soul,

Words of flesh,

The sound of time is

Love expressed.

Chants whisper to me

As their cords of light infuse my spirit.

The names of God swirl in silent eddies

And drain through the fibers of my heart

Where traces of love are

Caught and linger.

The universal love holds no space or time

It is all and nothing.

Come my love, hold my hand and

Sing with me the names of God in love and watch

Watch and be amazed as the magic unfolds again.

Coming Cold

Winter is not a time of loss,

Not just a time of cold.

It is a pause,

A break in the cycle of growth and light.

A time to rest, step back, step in,

And reflect.

The dark time brings us back to hearth and home,

Back to our roots and each other.

We share this quiet time within ourselves,

Deeply formed thoughts reflected in firelight.

Winter is a time of shared isolation.

We are all closed in, alone with each other.

The trees are quiet, too.   All

Sounds are muffled by the snow.

Burrows and dens surrounded by the white warmth

Shelter life until spring.

Crystal cold water runs beneath a

Covering of ice,

Sneaking away to the open sea,

Escaping the slowing by cold’s icy grip.

The cold penetrates all, it slides

Silently over the sills

And in through the cracks and settles

In pools around my feet.

Cold turns the air into crystals of ice,

That sparkle as diamonds in the sun.

But the sun holds little warmth in winter.

Her light for illumination only.

She has given the world over to the other side

A universe and life in balance, as it should be.

The light and warm time will come again, it always does

It is trustworthy.

So I am content to sit by the fire and marvel

At the wonder and beauty of winter.

I appreciate my place in the flow of the seasons

And my oneness with all creatures.

Join me, step back and observe, listen and be still

Hear the magic and grace that surrounds you.

Let the crystal blue sparkling sky fill your eyes and heart with the joy of the season

And be at peace in this time of waiting.

Haiku 4 poems

Uncommon fair time again

All natural and good

Wholesomeness is its hallmark

Break

I expect so little now

Is it still to much?

Let go, watch me fall apart

Break

The birds are very busy

They sense it is here

Frost on the field this morning

Break

The humming birds are now gone

No one saw them leave

They slipped away in the night

The Courage of Autumn

Swift summer snuck in,

Greening up from the edges, shading the forest floor.

It came complete with lovely summer evenings

Where warm breezes filled the night,

And a blanket of starts twinkled in the

Dark humid haze.
The August thunder filled my soul

With its power and its wildness renewed me.

My garden produced produce from the earth

Feeding my soul as richly as it fed my body.

This summer was a season of energy and rapid growth.

There was no time to waste, “bloom now, don’t be afraid” was its message.

But now, without warning, the days begin to shorten,

The afternoon shadows grow longer.

Late night mists form as the heart of summer

Makes its escape back to the sky from where it came.

The golden sunglow fades from my skin as it

Has from the fields.

A summer season of riotous beginnings looses its energy and

Fades into the arms of autumn.

As the seasons change, so must I.

I need to return to the safety and warmth of my home and

Gather my growings to feed my body as I gather my loves

To sustain my soul through the cold, dark time to come.

Autumn is the time to return to what was, to what came before

Summer’s brief and beautiful interruption.

Fearlessly and with a final burst of thanks in colors of red and gold,

The earth has gently shed its past with its leaves.

If only I could shed mine with such courage and beauty.