Poetry from my heart
There is magic in this night.
Brilliance in its darkness and darkness in its light.
Tonight, my soul is deep in the arms of midnight,
Too deep to see,
Too blind to know,
Its cries too silent to be heard.
I am astounded by the simplicity of this midnight,
But also shocked by its truth.
Too much time has passed with too little thought and
Now… what of now?
It is gone.
Forever to remain,
Unnoticed.
The stillness of the night air
Hangs heavy outside my window.
Its darkness threatens to come in,
But my reading light keeps it at bay, and
Although the light is bright, drips of silent night
Sneak in around the edges of my window sill
And puddle on the floor by the curtain hem
To remind me of the darkness that lurks just outside
My window
And my heart.
Its movement, stillness.
Its language, silence.
Its heart full.
Its soul empty.
Travel with it.
Its always the same
Yet ever changing,
A changeling in time,
Out of time and
Empty, yet full
With infinite possibilities.
Forever one,
Alone but never lonely.
I wrote this particularly dark piece in November of 2015 after having just found out that the man I thought would be the love I had always wanted and had been waiting for was… well, not who he presented himself to be. It hurts my heart to read this but it remains valuable as a reminder of the power I allowed someone else to have over me… a lesson I won’t soon forget.
You Are the Lucky One
“If I laugh just a little bit
Maybe I can recall the way that I used to be, before you
And sleep at night – and dream”
Cat Stevens
Will that time ever come to be or am I
Destined to spend forever wanting,
Dreaming and remembering
Your presence in my life.
Sometimes it seems like it was all just a dream, but it can’t be because
I still feel your hands on my body in the night,
I smell the scent of your skin in my bed and
See your light in my soul.
In my dreams I hold you, I feel your arms surround me and
Taste your mouth on mine.
You hold me close as I listen to your words,
Words you whisper in my ear
As you make love to me as only you can do.
Your passion is overwhelming, your hunger for me insatiable.
How does that end, how can passion like that just stop?
Where did it go?
Does she make you feel like I did?
Does she make you forget me?
If so, than I guess you are the lucky one.
Lucky to go from one love to the next without taking a breath.
No nights lost in the pain of what was
Or of what could have been and the why of it all.
No time spent in a wanting so intense that it drags you to the bottom of a dark pit,
A pit with steep, slippery sides, with no end, no way out,
No footholds, no dreams, just darkness, only darkness.
It is not the soft, comforting darkness of our times in each other’s arms,
Those times in the dark of night when we were the only two awake in the world,
Two alone sharing nights of love and trust, sweetness and heat, but
It is a cold and lifeless darkness, the kind that smothers you in ink, sucks the breath from
Your lungs and crushes your skull with its heaviness.
A paralyzing, frightening darkness that turns your thoughts back in on themselves to
Deceive and choke you,
A darkness that disguises all the goodness in the world and soaks it in pain and anger.
This is such a terrible place to be … I can’t find my way out…
But I am glad that you have not been sucked into the pit as well,
Because the only thing worse than being here alone would be
Knowing you were here too but hiding from me in the darkness.
I need to see the moon lit patterns of white and shadow on the grass and hear how they speak to me once more.
The chimes are calling me again from the silence of my soul to look, listen and observe.
I need to hear the hungry owl’s cries in the night, feel its silent wings move swiftly in the darkness,
Too swiftly for its pray, and watch with detachment the
Swift death, natural and inevitable, made a villain only
By my thoughts.
I need to leave my disturbed thoughts and become the stillness in the chaos,
I need to reenter the silent swiftness of the owl’s wings and moon shadows.
For it is the only place to be and
The only place where I have ever existed.
I must never be distracted again.
My being had begun to seep away while I was preoccupied,
Distracted by another, an unnatural evil but one of my own making.
But the owl’s wings are bringing me home now,
My time of regression is done, but it has taken its toll.
My heart is weaker, my thoughts harder to read.
There is never regressing without damage to my soul.
Solitude and stillness, as a getaway to the road back, are coming into view…
The road back leads to the place of reclamation of my soul,
Back to the essence of bliss, to the everlasting light and to
His hand in mine.
Impostors by fate but originally
Miracles at birth.
Now holed up in falsities and
Missing the point.
Unsettled souls reap only what
They sow, they received no gifts and are giving none in return.
No promises are kept, no dreams fulfilled.
Maybe next time they say, but next time never comes.
It is the same ending, over and over and over.
A sadness steeped in familiarity, with
Seduction, for its own sake,
The only prize.
It is a shallow, stagnate prize
But the only reward there is.
It is time to break this spell of soullessness and
Open to the pain and recognition of your deluded being.
Absorb it, take it in and by doing so defuse
Its dark energy.
Deny its claim on you,
Step away from its hold and
Watch, watch as it shrinks
And fades.
Watch it be consumed by the light,
And dissolved in the liquid love of the Son.
Watch it be taken from you
To hurt you no more.
Awaken and feel the light and goodness
Of who God made you to be.
It is there, already in you, see it for yourself
And when you do…
Pain will lose its sting and
Darkness will be no more.
A robin sings at dawn and
The day breaks on a new world.
A world different from the one
The sun set on yesterday.
It is the same earth but
A new world.
My world is not the same as yours and
Your world can never be the same as mine as I am not you.
Our eyes work in the same way, yet
See everything differently.
A million souls have been lost since yesterday, but
A million more were born.
We are not alone or the same…
Watch the progression of the wind through the trees.
Notice how each tree moves to its own song and in its own world.
As do we…
Do you feel the same breeze that moves the trees?
Do you know and hear their songs?
They hear mine…
Today, even my heart is different than yesterday’s,
Is yours?
In the night my dreams change me and
I wake up in a new world.
It happens every morning,
But it’s never the same.
The world’s consistency is but an illusion.
The ferns leaning against my porch screens are a little taller than they were before.
Overnight, more geranium buds have opened and
The garden has drunk up all the water I gave to it yesterday.
Everything has changed
Yet appears the same.
The illusion is well practiced and convincing,
Or is it?
After all, the Robin never fails to sing at dawn.
Between the birdsong and morning sunlight,
Waves of grass sway in unison, while
The melody of life and light
Plays across Curtis field.
Heated mist rises from the grasses in currents of song
And murmurs in harmony with the breath of the encircling trees.
This field holds its life close,
An entire universe existing in the space of a blade of grass.
Life here teams in layers from dirt to dawn and
Root to crown.
This is a place of abundance, an abundance
Kept well hidden beneath layers of grass.
A place for contemplation and peace; one rich with the essence of life.
So please come and sit here with me again.
Get up close and watch,
Feel the warmth of life surrounding us.
Embrace its sweetness and
Hold the magic of this place in your soul forever.
And when your soul remembers, and the time is right, take my hands in yours and
Be with me once more.
Just you and me between the birdsong and morning sunlight.
3/18/16
Come, sit and sip with me again.
The tea will warm our hands, the wine our hearts.
Hold my hands across the table once more and
Watch and feel my eyes melt into yours.
I know your heart hears mine but you pull
Your sweater tight and muffle its cries for me.
Let it out, it only wants to share.
Don’t be afraid,
Your heart won’t leave you for me and mine
Won’t leave me for you, but
They will meet when
Our chests touch.
Their harmonic beauty will speak to us in peace and love and
Lull us into the sweetness of sleep
Among the tea mugs
And wine glasses.
10/24/15
The witching hour,
A time of infinite possibilities.
Midnight is what I want it to be,
Sometimes magical, other times evil.
But the times of evilness are of my own making,
Mine alone.
It is my free choice, I can drift and float in the essence of magical wonder or
Chain myself in the darkness of a black soul.
Both exist in abundance
In the witching hour and I decide which to feed.
The ability and freedom to choose is a grave responsibility,
Frightening in its implications.
There is no one else here,
But they are all watching
Which choice will I make?
Witch choice will make me?
