Solitary Seclusion

In self-imposed solitary seclusion

the so-called facts are in doubt.

It appears the spells have been lifted and forgotten,

And life has become merely withstood,

Not lived.

But why?

Why just withstood?

Why just survived?

Let’s bring back the spells.

Believe not in other’s so-called facts

But in the universal truth.

Surrender to the beauty of solitary seclusion

And rejoice in the freedom it brings

to enjoy what is,

and not what only appears to be.

Witness

The trees outside my bedroom window are naked but
evergreens remain green to remind me of life’s continuance,
always existing just below the surface.
The trees are stark silhouettes in gray,
each branch and twig evident but asleep.
There is a silence in the wood.
A soft, comforting, sleeping silence,
a hush of reverence, a soothing of soul.
Awareness hangs like smoke among the naked branches.
An awareness of belonging, of no doubts,
of confidence in the being and faith in the belonging.
So they stand, the trees of winter, cold and silent,
in perfect harmony with their place and mine.
Each a witness to the other and
both a witness to the One.  

One Last Time

Seashells and wave echoes

swirled and laughed in the emptiness behind my eyes.

But now I have let them go, sent them away,

unlocked the door and set them free.

The remaining empty space is vast, but quiet, and soft.

Yet never truly empty despite my best efforts

for when I’m not looking, the wave echoes return to roll around the edges of my inner space

once again.

They blend with a stillness that never stands still,

and become a part of the flow and wash in the space behind my eyes.

It is an expanding space that can hold everything and more.

More me, more us,

together in the completeness of warm love and peace.

So come my love, kick off your shoes and dance with me again.

Listen to the song of the seashells and watch…

watch the empty space fill with us and only us.

Catch the wave echoes when they come around again and

this time,

this one last time,

never

let

go.

Soft Heart Magic

It exists in the space between heart beats.

In shadows of trees on the sidewalk.

In the moment after the flash

and before the thunder.

In the distance between the words,

I            love              you.

It hovers between joy and heartache.

It flows through memories of

Now and then, here and gone, alive and not.

But it never dies, just changes it shape

To fit the time

The place,

The broken heart.

You Didn’t

 

You were just a symbol.

A representation of what I wanted,

But in my mind only.

You couldn’t be who you were not.

Not your fault, but you wouldn’t even try.

But then, you didn’t expect my love, did you…

Its depth was frightening.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

You didn’t want to know.

You couldn’t understand.

But even if you could have,

You didn’t.

No Choice

I must have loved you.

to do what I did,

to be someone I’m not,

to follow,

to stay.

I changed,

but only on the surface.

You must have loved me too…

To make me feel the way you did…

Right?

You must have…

Maybe you didn’t…

I guess you didn’t…

But you had a choice,

I didn’t.

What would I Do?

They are out there.

The names and faces are different but the same.

Am I any different?

We are all wanting, waiting, hoping.

Is it worth it? To set ourselves up just to fail?

I have chosen dreams that remain only that, just chosen dreams.

But what If I actually caught one and made it real?

What in the world would I do with it all?

The Missing Piece

Doesn’t she know?

How could she not.

Doesn’t she feel it,

Doesn’t she notice that piece of him that has gone missing,

again?

And where does it go,

where does he take it and

who does he give it to?

Does she know?

I guess not, but I know.

It isn’t lost or misplaced.

I have captured it.

I hold that missing and best part of him.

The part that she is missing.

The part he gives only to me.

The pieces of him that I can’t have are far greater than the one she misses,

but at least I know what to name it.

Next Life

Is is me who I grieve for.

My heart and soul wait

anticipating it all to be as I want, but

I chose you, unwisely.

Why cant you be more, be what I want?

All of you, the collective you too.

But it is only me,

smothering in want and need.

Occasionally the sun breaks through but only to be swallowed by the sea, again.

Will it rise tomorrow?

Maybe not.

It is all slipping away,

It is almost over.

Until next time,

love,

next life.