They are Everywhere

They sit in piles on my bureau,

Stacks on end tables and desktop.

They stand in rows on shelves and are silent.

Each holds it own unique secrets.

I can hear their silent words, and

feel their thoughts pushing against their covers.

They wait and are patient.

A wealth of knowledge standing by,

always steady in their thoughts, never changing their minds,

dependable and steadfast,

reliable and faithful.

I feel their presence surround me,

taste their flavor,

and am overwhelmed by their potential.

They hold the keys to so much,

so much just waiting on the shelves, desktops and end tables

enriching my space with their presence,

waiting for me to open their covers and

set their words free.

No Titles

None of my new poems have titles.

Do they need to?

Why?

To separate one from the other in a world where there is no separation?

It is 4:15 am and the robin outside my window starts his song.

Does he know his or it’s title?

Does he need to?

No, he knows what he knows.

His song begins at dawn,

4:15.

Titled or not…

Waiting for Words

Are there any more words?

I wait, I close my eyes and don’t think.

Thinking gets in the way.

Jumbles my ideas and thoughts.

Better to just wait,

close my eyes and wait.

I’ll write what they tell me to.

But not with words,

those come out of the end of my pen

All on their own.

Craziness Refined

Is crazy a prerequisite

for creative?

Is it crazy to think I can make something from nothing,

that I can pull thoughts and strings of words out of nowhere or

breath a new thought into life?

I think so.

But then, maybe creative is just craziness, refined.

Up Close

Who is he?

This man I only know up close.

Does he know me? And if so,

who is this woman, this me he knows?

We have an odd situation, he and I, like a fantasy played out on a stage,

a performance, a curtain call and

then done.

I know the up-close, the heat, the physical

Yet when I see him from a cool distance,

I don’t know him.

He becomes someone else with someone else.

So which is the real him and can he be one without the other?

When I ask him, he hesitates as if to say he doesn’t know what to say or

what I want to hear and so he leaves.

When he goes, what is left?

A space, a place holder, a thought,

another time, another place, a different now?

I know for us there is still only the now.

A now only for us.

But when the physical distance is gone, we two become one but with no future

with or without each other.

It is an isolating togetherness, just ours alone now and forever.

He steps out of his life and I out of mine and together we share a space that

 is comforting, predictable but out of place.

 A place that feels right, until it doesn’t, and I step back into the cool distance of my life.

To a place where I only know this man, up close.

Starlight

Translucent starlight

Fights its way through the cold.

Winds try to push it away but can’t.

Its tenacity is powerful.

Its mission unstoppable but

despite its power to travel through the depths of the universe,

its journey of a trillion light years will end here,

Deep inside my dark brown eyes.

Epic Love

An epic love is one we knew in our deepest heart space.

A love that remained in secret, just below the surface and still does.

That one we don’t ever speak of, it’s too painful.

A love where all the signs and signals said “beware”, “stay away”.

We didn’t.

We couldn’t.

It was a Cinderella fantasy come to life.

A love to good to be true and was.

It was the kind of love that stays in our hearts and at the edge of our minds.

It was a love that was never meant to last.

It was too passionate, too intense and raw to maintain forever.

It came into our hearts like an avalanche of emotion, a storm of lust.

And just as violently as it came, it was gone leaving us lost and broken.

But in spite of the pain, it changed us for the better. 

It changed us into women who felt a level of passion and love we will never forget,

could never have imagined was possible and one that may never come again.

If we are honest with ourselves, we knew from the beginning that it was a love that was never really ours to keep.

Didn’t we…

Let the Ordinary Amaze You

Let the ordinary amaze you.

Savor the taste of an apple.

Drink in the sound of a waterfall.

Marvel at the cycle of the seasons and

rest in their dependability.

See the confirmation of the miracle of life in

every second of being.

Become one with all that is sacred and holy and

be astounded at the face of a flower, a newborn baby, a summer thunderstorm.

Feel the positive energy and vibration of the universe

that holds you in its arms.

Sleep in the peace of knowing

That morning will always follow the darkest of nights.

Enjoy this life you have been blessed with.

Move away from the negative.

Reject the downward pull of the unknowing and

let your positive light shine above it all.

Share in the bounty of life, choose your own path, and

Add your positive energy to the worldwide awakening.

Let the ordinary amaze you.

Again

I look into his eyes and see what others do not.

I see strength and honesty, hope and love but also

hurt and disappointment.

He has the physique of a man, a strong, dependable man

but his eyes tell me a different story.

With the eyes of a mother, I see the child behind this man.

The one who is still left with the hurts of the past,

who tries so hard, loves so much, feels so deeply.

She was the one who felt vulnerable,

but he is the one who was.

Sadness and tears envelope my heart and soul when I think of him.

The man left behind,

in spite of it all,

Again.

Questions

Matters of the heart can be hard, heavy and leave slowly.

Love lingers in disappointment and confusion.

Then softness pervades and dims the sorrow but 

embers remain hidden and kindle love’s flame in secret.

Pain seeps through tears and hearts creak, bend, and sometimes break

with the weight of longing for what might have been,

what could have been,

what should have been.

But now, spring mornings bring clarity, and

Evening tears dry and soften with the rising sun.

Time moves, and memories take their place in silence,

leaving sorrow behind to mingle with Autumn’s discarded leaves.

One ending outgrown has become another beginning.

First love that shifted to become a perfect friendship

now lies deep, protected, remembered,

 and treasured but left behind in winter’s eternal snow.

New choices have emerged from a season of hope and joy

but not without a lingering touch of sorrow and questions left unanswered.

So many questions, haunting questions, eternal questions, ones with no answers and

 those whose answers no longer matter.

I wish I could give you all the answers,

But I have faith in you my beautiful child,

to find your own answers,

 ones far better than mine,

in your time,

in your way,

in your heart.