A Wind is Coming

A wind is coming.

I hear it in the trees,

 

I feel it in air,

I see it in the clouds.

 

It signals a change,

A departure from the norm.

 

A new wind, a new time.

A time to rest in His love,

 

A time to accept what is,

To forget what might have been.

 

The wind arrives and blows through my soul

And cleanses it but even its power cannot free my heart.

 

My heart is unresponsive and cold,

Only I have the power to change it, or at least I pretend to.

 

If only I truly did have that power,

My life would be so much happier.

 

I could choose to love who would be the best for me.

I could deny this love that won’t leave me alone and toss it out.

 

If only it were that simple

If only…

 

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.

She is Not a Quitter

My little heart keeps asking me “why?”

I hear her tiny voice in the quiet early morning hours but I have no answer for her.

 

She has stayed up all night again.

Thinking about the past, feeling the pain and sorrow of the now.

 

She has fallen into a deep dark pit,

Her little voice echoing off the steep, cold sides.

 

I keep reaching out to her but her tiny hands

Have not the strength to hold on.

 

So she sinks back to the bottom and

Remains in sorrow and darkness.

 

It is a shame to witness this. She used to be such

A happy little thing,

 

Always positive, always trusting.

Albeit, sometimes a bit too naive for her own good,

 

But it was a naiveté not based on stupidity or ignorance but

One based on a choice to trust and believe in spite of the red flags not to.

 

I am afraid for her, she is weak and there are

Beasts down there in the darkness.

 

Beasts who lie to her,

Who tell her she is not good enough, that she is unlovable and a fool.

 

They sneak in while she sleeps and

Whisper doubts in her ear.

 

I keep trying to tell her to be strong and not listen to their lies,

But I don’t think she can hear me yet.

 

So I wait on the edge of the pit

With an open mind and open hand to catch her the next time she climbs to within my reach.

 

I don’t mind waiting because I know she will try again soon in spite of the pain and sorrow.

I have faith in her – she is not a quitter.

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.…

One Can Only Hope

The white-hot anger

Has begun to fade.

 

It is fading to an

Orange glow

 

A perpetual reminder,

A caution flag.

 

Reminding me to beware

To stay strong and protective of my heart.

 

I am still in shock

Shocked and dismayed over his

 

Ability to deceive, manipulate and then

Attempt to justify his actions.

 

He claims to accept responsibility but it what way?

Does he apologize?

 

Does he express remorse or compassion

For the hearts he has destroyed and crushed, hers and mine?

 

No, he turns the situation into a dramatic opportunity, an excuse to project himself as a victim, a victim of his own deceptions.

 

He texts me and she in the dead of night to call us angels and

To tell us he would die without our intervention.

 

As if we and everyone around him exist solely for his

Benefit, again, as always, it is all about him.

 

The level of his hypocrisy and continued self-delusion

Is staggering.

 

He seems to think we can protect him from himself.

It is a sad and deluded state in which he exists.

 

The other woman, the one he lead me to believe was a psycho bitch, is in

Actuality a lovely and loving beautiful soul.

 

He says there has been drama with her in their past

And now that I know his truth and see what he really is

 

Any drama that may have occurred is totally understandable.

If his guitar had been available this weekend, I would have run it over with my truck!

 

The irony of this situation

Astounds me.

 

His cries in the night for love and acceptance no longer

Move the hearts of the two women who truly do love him.

 

His lies and manipulation have destroyed

What he wanted and what we were willing to give to him.

 

This situation has drained both she and I physically and emotionally.

So my new friend, it is time to put it and him away.

 

Time to try and fill his space in our hearts

With other joys, joys that will not disappoint and betray us.

 

Be kind to yourself and fill your life and heart with all that you love and

All who love you and I will try and do the same.

 

Hopefully we will both soon find other hearts willing and able to love and cherish ours

In a way that he is incapable of.

 

I feel sorry for him but sorry in a strong way, not as a weakness that will enable him

To ease his way back into my heart, soul and bed.

 

Sorry in a way that will allow me to feel compassion for him

And his sorry state of being,

 

In a way that will allow me to be hopeful that someday he will understand himself and

Will stop trying to manipulate those around him and will just let things be as they should.

 

A time when he will be comfortable enough within himself and love himself enough

To truly be able to love another.

 

A time when he will recognize and accept with an open and true heart the

Joy he has spent a lifetime looking for and will understand and see that

 

It is a joy he has already been given by a number of good and kind women but one he

Has betrayed each and every time.

 

Maybe that knowledge and truth will prevent him from doing it yet again,

One can only hope.

 

 

Why I Cry

He doesn’t cry for me,

He cries for himself.

 

The magnitude of the pain he has caused

Makes him uncomfortable.

 

He can’t believe he is

Capable of such unkindness, it is not his way.

 

He is not a bad person,

Confused perhaps, but not bad.

 

He tries to love everyone and

In theory that is a great and noble way to live and so

 

His aura glows, his eyes speak kindness and

His soul shines through with good intentions.

 

I think he is capable of all the those good things, they are in his heart,

But he is also a man, just a man.

 

A man who has had to suffer the injustices of this society,

Who has had to endure heartache, broken dreams and all the other issues life has thrown at him.

 

He is not immune to pain or mistakes, and

It is unfair to expect him to be.

 

But being merely “human” does not give anyone license to

Hurt another human being, intentionally or not.

 

I don’t write these lines to hurt him,

To point out his faults – I have as many.

 

I write these lines for myself, to try and make sense of this heartbreak

This soul devouring sadness, but as hard as I try …

 

I cannot hate him; it would be easier if I could.

My love for him is too strong and fills my heart; there is no room there for hate.

But he already knows all of this, he knows what I think, what I feel, who I am

And somehow that makes this hurting worse, precisely because he did know all along…

 

So, did I expect too much of him? Expect him to be something he’s not, to live up to my standards? I don’t think so.

 

He is capable of being all that I envision him to be,

All that he wants to be and more,

 

And that is why I cry for us both.

 

Candlelight, Soft Love and Raindrops

I hear the rain in the early morning darkness,

It’s sound muffled by the closed windows and leaf blanketed forest floor.

 

But its soft sound is enough to keep me awake,

Awake and day dreaming of happier times.

 

Of times when the sound of the rain brought sweet contentment and thankfulness

For its life giving qualities to my mind.

 

A time when it was summer’s refreshment,

And the garden sang in gratitude for its warm sweetness.

 

But now, as I sit here on my bed at 2:00 am, alone in this November darkness,

The droning on the roof only serves to remind me of our separateness,

 

Our aloneness and isolation, one from the other,

With the sound of the rain our only connection.

 

This simple connecting sound brings me to thoughts of him and

I picture him in his room,

 

Lying beneath his white down comforter,

While the rain drops roll in rivers down his bedroom windows.

 

The rain’s sound is amplified by the sloping eves of his bedroom ceiling where the soft flicker of candle light dances.

 

The memory of the warmth of his body lying next to mine takes my breath away.

I can feel his long lean limbs, light but strong, wrapped around me in complete trust

 

As together we sleep as one, our separateness abandoned and replaced by a union of warmth, safety and love.

 

But slowly my day dream fades and reality comes seeping back to me in my empty bed and

The sound of the rain outside my window becomes the sound of my tears.

 

Although the scene in my mind fades away into the darkness of this November night,

My thoughts stay with him.

 

And as I try once again to lose myself in the healing peace of sleep

I become aware of the missing sound of my heart beating in my chest.

 

It seems my heart has left me and has chosen instead to stay behind in my day dream with him.

But I don’t feel betrayed or upset with its abandonment for

 

I cannot blame it for wising to remain in the sweet memory of candlelight, soft love and raindrops, I understand – it is my wish as well.

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 and I listen to your words,

Words you whispered in my ear

 

As you made love to me as only you can do.

Your passion overwhelming, your hunger for me insatiable.

 

How does that end, how can a 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 then being here alone would be

Knowing you were here too but hiding from me in the darkness.

 

 

The Cold Light

The early morning silence speaks to my soul.

It calms my heart and lets my mind wander back to a warmer time,

 

A time of love and light. But as the dawn draws near,

The night’s soft callings fade and take my sleepy hope with them.

 

As the horizon brightens, my heart, that was held close in sleep,

Stretches and yawns back to wakefulness.

 

A wakefulness to the reality of losing him again,

And the pain and longing is felt anew.

 

If only night’s magic and sleep’s

Fantasies could survive the cold light of dawn.