I made too much of it,
More than it was.
But not at all what I
Wanted it to be.
Yet I continued, wanting,
Wishing, and hoping and for what?
For another night? It was just a one night
At a time love.
It feels unreal now,
a waste of me, of my soul and heart.
And now begins the slow fade into blackness and silence, just like all the others, as
My soul bleeds and my heart beat stops and
My eyes, still in their blindness, wish it were not so.
I sit on the stage.
Darkness surrounds me.
The audience, if there is one,
Is silent.
There are no props on the stage
Only layers of black curtains.
I don’t remember auditioning for a play,
But here I am.
It’s odd there is no music or
Other players.
I sit in my darkness for what seems like forever
But there is still no sound, no movement, no life.
Just stillness and a mild sense of confusion.
I feel the space in front of me more than see it.
I sense it is there, curtains in a circular shape
A boundary perhaps but between what and where?
The other side is unknown and unknowable
Until the show begins.
But will it begin? Still no script or players,
No music or lights.
I run my hand through my hair to prove to myself that
I am still real in this sensory deprived place.
But what is real about an empty stage, a wordless play,
A playerless story?
I begin to realize that
None of those things matter.
All is stillness and non-separate.
The “show” never begins and never ends.
The circular curtain and empty stage contain eternity
And this space is an empty place within me.
There will be no play, no script,
No lights, no audience.
This story is mine, the darkness my stillness,
The only witness, me.
Just me as part of the universal consciousness
Acting out a play of well-rehearsed lines without ever saying a word.
Each player a part of the whole
Never separate from the others.
All joined in the cosmic drama
Of existence.
The curtain rises on one story, one actor, one consciousness
In an act that never ends.
Coastal dunes slide and slip into the sea
As the storm rolls on to the north.
Gulls scurry to grab unfortunate crabs washed ashore by the crashing waves.
Seaweed floats and ripples with the waves like grass in the wind and
Salty sea spray coats the disinterested windows of empty houses on the shore.
The tourists have all left for the season
Leaving the ocean and beach to carry on with their lover’s dance
Un-witnessed and unashamed, with freedom and reckless abandon.
I am not a quitter but there comes a time
When the fight is lost.
They say to resist is futile, as some things cannot be defeated
And may not need to be, so,
I have taken the advice given and
Have made the decision.
I have gone to the room,
Cleaned the cobwebs out of the corners, painted the walls yellow,
Arranged the flowers on the table and freshened the bed with clean, crisp linens, after all,
He deserves only the best.
It is a south facing room,
I know he likes the sun and heat.
I looked at all the other rooms – all unoccupied,
But none were quite as nice.
I don’t think he will be lonely there as
I will always be with him.
I’ll have to find a safe place to put the key;
I know I will use it often.
Especially at first,
I know he will come out a lot.
I’ll have to hold him gently in the palm of my hand,
Put him back in and lock the door each time; there is no other way.
I know I’ll complain about the inconvenience,
But it really will be my own fault, as I’ll still think of him too often.
They say in time I’ll see him less and less.
I’m not so sure of that, but I hope they’re right.
But right now I can take no more; he refuses to leave so I have no choice
As he comes uninvited into my thoughts daily.
So when those thoughts and feelings overwhelm me,
I will hold his essence in my hands and send him back.
And when I send him back, he will need no direction
As he knows which room is his.
It’s the first one on the right,
The only yellow room in my heart.
A play of light and shadow.
Bodies move and sweep emotions into being.
The interplay of physical and emotional strength portrays a
Man and woman connected in dance as in life and love.
Two bodies move as one in response to
The primordial rhythm of existence.
The two become one in spirit and flesh as
The opposites of each other.
Their hands and hearts glide together
Joining the masculine and feminine in an endless dance of love and power.
He shares his with her and she hers with him and
The dance becomes a battle of love, a flow of exquisite pain and destroying joy.
For to love for loves sake,
To flow together in the dance of eternity,
To believe in the union of man, woman and music
Is to become one with the ballet of life.
Revelations come to me when I least expect them unwanted, but insistent that I listen.
They are the kind I don’t want to know and don’t want to hear.
But they come anyway . Maybe to clear the way,
To open my heart and eyes and speak the truth to my soul.
But they are hard truths to take.
My heart says no, but my head and soul say “Yes, listen and know”.
My heart is a child, trusting , self-deluding and innocent.
My soul aches for her in her time of pain and sorrow.
Love is not only felt by my heart, my soul loves too.
But my soul is blessed with a stronger constitution, a greater consciousness, a better understanding.
It is older and wants to protect my heart, wants to spare her from pain but knows it can’t.
So it warps itself around my heart and holds her while she weeps and sleeps. It knows that time will heal her and is patient in the waiting time.
My soul knows my heart is good and kind and that she loves unconditionally and breaks because of it.
My soul knows that my heart knows no other way to love so it waits and loves and holds and protects with gentle hands and the love of God.
Together, in time, we will love again, all three of us,
I’m sure of it, my soul told me so.
When I take the time to look inside, instead of outside,
I find miraculous things. Things I never have seen before,
Feelings I never have noticed and rules I never have followed.
Oftentimes they are the feelings and rules I have imposed on others but never followed myself.
Others whom I say I know well and in my arrogance convince myself that I know how they think,
And feel but in reality, my assumptions are baseless and I realize
That it is only me who I can ever know…
But only from the inside out.
A field of brown grass,
A drop of chilly dew,
A morning kissed ripe apple, and
A bursting milkweed pod…
Signs of the change of seasons and an
Elevation of my consciousness.
Summer has ended.
It has shed its past and faded into isness
But it’s an isness that is charged with the now.
At the change of seasons, there is a new definition of me.
One that shifts with the sun angles and holds my spirit in kindness.
It is a newness in me that ebbs and flows with the tides and moon cycles.
That builds on the new life essence that captures my attention
That fills my heart and soul.
An essence of change, of new life, of new beginnings from old endings.
It is a change that envelopes my being and carries me along with it.
A flood of truth and trust, a deluge of emotions and warmth.
My heart misses the summer season but my soul is alive with the contentment of the coming winter.
A sheltered silence in seasonal separateness
But all together just the same…
In shared seclusion.
I wonder where he is?
I feel him; I can taste his mouth,
Smell his skin, feel his touch.
He is strong and kind,
Passionate and silly,
Light hearted and honest.
He holds me in the night and kisses
My eyes awake each morning.
Our souls mingle in the darkness of early morning sleep
Where yesterday and tomorrow meet and
Blend together into the now.
I have known him since before time existed.
There is no separation between he and I
As we are two halves of a whole.
He is my anam cara, my soul mate, my life.
I wonder if he exists…
Changes are not always positive
Or swift.
Some drag, leaving behind a trail
Of sorrow.
Some move quickly, leaving no time to dwell
In the past.
Some changes are painful but for the better.
Some are just the way it is, neither good nor bad.
We decide which way to go, to let go
And move on or stay stuck, resisting the change.
I don’t know which is harder to do….
I think it depends in a large part on the nature of the change…
Change happens with or without my permission.
Me and you are not the same people we were just moments ago.
The cosmos has reinvented itself a thousand times in the last ten minutes.
So change is common, a fact of life and existence so why do our
Human situational changes sometimes linger
Beyond what they should and so become more important than they really are?
Even a change brought about by me is hard to handle. It is a step away from what has been and a step into a new future, a good future, a better place within me, yet unsettling nonetheless.
And although change is inevitable, there are consistencies in my life for me to lean on and appreciate in the face of change…
Tomorrow will still come, the sun will rise and shine through my soul and soften the pain that still lingers.
The hoots of the owls in the forest outside my window will strengthen my heart as morning turns to day and the thoughts in my head turn towards the goodness and excitement of the life changes before me.
In spite of uncertainty, these changes are good. The dark past has settled and sunken to the bottom of my soul where it will always remain, never forgotten, but will no longer be able to hold me captive in its cold grip. It’s and his falseness and deceptive nature have been fully exposed and rejected.
So the change that has come is the right one. It is long overdue, and although still painful, it is welcome.
My heart has changed, my livelihood is about to as well after which I will embark on a journey into an unknown future where I will accept whatever may come in this moment.
I will turn my focus inward where things can and will change for the better for me and all those I love…. everyone.
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