Steam rises over the rim
Tea cup holds my soul
Fears are dissolved in the mist
Category: love poetry
Sunrise Lover
Sunrise lover from
Soft, warm darkness.
Light filters in at sunrise and
Rises from the floor and spreads to the ceiling.
As the room brightens, his form slowing comes into being,
Emerging from the rumpled pile of bedclothes.
Smooth, soft, dark and lovely.
I lie with him, my face resting against his.
In the half light I can just make out
His eyelashes, resting on his smooth cheek.
His noble nose is outlined by the
Light creeping in through the window.
His lips are beautiful and full,
Soft and sweet.
As the room continues to lighten,
His breathing quickens and his body stretches.
I move back just a bit
To take in his whole being.
He is strong, lean and beautiful
All I could ever want or need.
His eyes flutter open and 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.
4/3/15
I wrote this 10 months ago. It is one of my favorites as was he…
Those Eyes
Love is an odd thing.
You think you know, and then you don’t.
You say I love you, but who are you saying it to?
The you that you are or the you that you appear to be?
And does it matter? Do any of us know who the other
Is? We think we do but do we – really?
I am tired of trying to figure it all out.
Tired of trying to figure me out, never mind the other…
Those eyes, they look right through me, but not at me.
They look through me to someone else.
But there can be no anger in me for someone not loving me, sadness but not anger.
Such things are not under our control, I wish they were but
I know from experience they are not. We don’t always love the one who
May be the best for us, and we sometimes love the one who may be the worst.
I could never hate the one who is the object of the love not given to me either.
There is no reason to; she has no more control over such things than I do.
There is enough pain in my heart, I don’t need to
Add any more but
What I do hate is deceit, manipulation, crass
Indifference to the hurt that lies can cause.
Truth is always the best way and would have made all the difference,
but some just can’t see that, or maybe choose not to.
And that is their choice to make.
They have every right to their opinion, as I have to mine.
But …
Those eyes…
3:00 am, Blurry Eyed, Movie Watching, Can’t Sleep, Heart Ramblings.
I’m watching a wonderful movie, one I have seen many times but
not for a long time. “Pretty Woman” so incredibly romantic and sweet but misleading, a modern continuation of the fairytale. Impossible and at the same time – beautiful.
I grew up believing that love and romance could really be like it is in the movies,
That out there somewhere I would find a man who would love me unconditionally. But more importantly, one who would not only love me but like me… want me to be happy, want me, period.
Maybe I tried too hard, maybe I shouldn’t have put him and his needs and wants before mine,
Maybe, maybe, maybe…. I’m tired of trying to figure it all out, tired of feeling not good enough,
not good enough for him, whoever that him may be and then, after all is said and done, hear from other people how highly he thinks of me. Why haven’t any of them treated me that way, why wait until I am gone to say it.
I can’t believe I’m crying over “Pretty Woman” but I am.
What does that mean….
I’m 61 years old, I’m not an idealistic girl, I know what and how life is.
It is hard, people are people, hearts are hearts, pain and love is pain and love… but why, why does it all have to be so hard, why can’t I find one who can share the dream, not perfect but deep, love at its best, when it matters most.
Love like that is almost sad it is so deep, so close to not being, so strong and overwhelming to be uncomfortable, uncomfortable because it is so precarious, so fleeting, so impermanent but eternal at the same time. We spend so much time on the wrong things, the job, car, house, status, impressing people to get where we want to be. But I don’t care about any of that…
I just want to be in his arms, his, the one who is capable of loving.
I so want to hold him, to wrap myself around him, feel his arms around me, his mouth on mine, his soul release into my body, his life essence mingle with mine, is it so much to ask for, too much for him to handle, I know… I need to go back to bed . Too much for me to handle right now too….
Pretty woman is waiting for her knight on the white horse.
I told him what he could do with his horse, but I was wrong, he never had one, ever …
Touching, Holding (repost from 2/15)
I loved touching him
I loved being touched
I loved holding him
I loved being held
I loved kissing him
I loved being kissed
I loved loving him
I loved being loved
But now he is gone
He has walked away and
Taken with him the
Touching
Holding
Kissing
Loving
The once warm darkness
Is now empty and cold.
His love is gone, but mine remains
The remembrance is all that is left
The sadness complete
2/12/15
MC
Dew
Dew kissed meadow.
Tree skeletons,
Silhouetted by fog.
Meadow’s undulating waves
Shrouded in mist.
Appearing and disappearing
A familiar landscape
Changed by drops of dew.
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,
We were wondering when you would come”.
“We are drawing closer to protect you,
We sense your weakness; we give you our collective strength.
Take us as we are as we you, you must know by now that
Your heart is not alone here and never has been”.
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 voice speaks 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, the pain of suffering
The agony of misunderstanding, of mind induced perceptions and
Selfish longings and needs.
But there is sympathy and empathy in this voice too because 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.
2/1/16
Divine Love
Sita & Ram
Radha & Kirshna
Shiva & Parvati
Examples for the heart.
But this end, our end,
It seems like such a waste of love,
But is it, is giving love ever a waste?
Can it be?
Human love, physical and spiritual, is
What love is meant to be.
The length of time or
The time of knowing doesn’t matter.
It is the recognition of the other half
That fuels the fire, the recognition is instant.
Soul and body love
The essence of humanity.
To connect together to that scared space,
That one deep inside.
The silence and stillness of beauty and grace
One love, two hearts beating as one
In honor of the divine creator.
Divine love in its purest manifestation,
It is the energy that fuels creation.
Such a rare gift to find.
To be nurtured and held close in the heart and soul
And what if he leaves, walks away
What if that love is returned unwanted?
What then, indeed, what then…
A rejection of the very essence of me
So hard, so cold, so unnecessary.
Written in February of 2015, a sad time as is now, I miss his music tonight…
A Celebration of Light and Love
Embrace the feminine,
Rejoin the world of light and shadow.
My sisters await,
I have been gone too long.
But they are patient, their rhythmic drumming continues,
A call for wisdom to those who have come before.
The drums awaken in our souls the
Primal sounds of life.
Listen to the crows cry in morning
Listen to the night sounds resonate with the vibrations of life.
Brook and sky
Flow together in harmony.
My soul reunites with my heart.
My place is remembered and rejoined.
My heart is endless, and knows no time or place,
It retains a place for him.
He who completes the connection,
Body and soul as no other can.
But I have learned, that to desert myself,
To love so completely that I lose myself
Is not what it is meant to be.
My love must complement who I am
Not become who I am.
My love for him is eternal,
It takes up no space and has no limits but
I will not allow it to consume me.
If only he could know, could feel as I do,
Our love would be as it was intended, the connection would be complete.
The space between us would dissolve into vapor and
We would be one in harmony with earth and sky.
Together
And the crows would cry at sunrise
And the night sounds would resonate with the sound of my sisters singing and drumming in celebration of light and love, love as it should be.
2/11/15
MC
I wrote this for him last year, a lovely fantasy, very lovely but equally lonely…
The Light Everlasting
What is it trying to tell me?
Anything?
The quote in the window,
The quick car in the night.
Is it all in my head?
Probably.
But if not, what is trying to break through,
Break into this world through me and why show me if it isn’t real…no, I have to stop thinking…
I need to see the moon lit patterns of white and shadow on the snow and hear how they speak to me.
The chimes are calling me again from the silence of my soul to look, listen, 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 but made a villain
By my thoughts.
I need to leave these thoughts and become
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 I have ever existed.
My being had begun to seep away while I was preoccupied,
Distracted by the other, the unnatural, the evil of my own making.
But the owl’s wings are bringing me home now,
My time of regression is waning but it has taken its toll.
My heart is weaker, my thoughts harder to read.
There is no regressing without damage to me and the object of the cause.
Solitude and stillness, as the getaway to the road back are coming into view…
The road to the place of reclamation of my soul,
Back to the essence of bliss, the light everlasting and
The hand in mine.
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