Sweet Emptiness,
A welcomed contradiction of fullness.
But still the senses are dismayed at the longing, and
The heart is made sad by the absence.
It asks, where is the sunshine, the warmth, the passion?
No answer comes as it lays sleeping, dormant, alone and waiting.
Waiting, waiting,
Always waiting…
The magic of the night.
The brilliance of its darkness, the darkness of its light.
My soul is deep in the arms of midnight
Too deep to see,
To blind to know, with cries
Too silent to be heard.
I am astounded by the simplicity of the night,
But shocked by its truth.
So much time has passed with too little thought.
Now it is gone,
Forever to remain – unnoticed.
There comes a soft sadness with
Summer Sunday evenings.
A time of day that remains empty unless full,
Lonely unless shared.
One week’s ending is
Another’s beginning.
Just as his absence is just another ending
And his staying away just another beginning.
My lonely heart aches and
Forgotten tears fall in silence as
My memories of him are left to collect dust in the corner,
Their silence speaking volumes.
No one else cares,
No one else remembers, and still,
The soft summer sadness of Sunday afternoon silence
Continues without end.
It rolls out in waves from
One thought to another.
It remains as one heart flowing into the other
Then back again to me.
It travels by glowing starshine that lights its way
Through the darkest nights only to
Leave me at dawn as sunshine brings back the true sight,
Sound and taste of its love.
But as it leaves, its absence is not sad as the void left behind is open,
Open to every other possibility love can explore.
It becomes a love bigger than me in spite of its misplaced attention
And I see that it was meant for me, after all.
His hands at the center of my back
Touch the center of my being.
My hands draw him in,
Deep into my heart and soul.
We are two separate beings
joined in one existence.
It is an existence that comes and goes
is here and gone.
It is empty yet full.
We are together but always alone.
Maybe it is too much.
Too lovely, too sweet and smooth,
Deep but never whole.
Always over, again and again and again
But always just beginning.
What can I say –
There are no words left…
No correct ones, anyway, but even without words
love’s heart lingers.
The useless words drip down the windows of my soul like rain
Turning snow to slush
And white noise to wet mud.
Sucking me under again.
The memories can’t be erased, or ignored.
And although they can’t be sucked back into non-being,
They begin to fade and with time become so thin they blend with the dripping snow,
But still I cannot, will not, forget or give them up.
I know the memories will remain mine,
Always mine and each time the same.
They will stay in my mind beautiful and true
Until time steps out of time and begins again.
(Poem #5 April 5, 2017)
It was just a game,
But it was all we had.
The rules were written as we went along.
He lead, I followed.
Everything changed from week to week
But always stayed the same.
The music played to fit the game and
Players changed with the tunes.
I never doubted in the moment,
Only in the absence, and it seemed to always be the time of absence.
The reality of the missing would come to me
Before the leaving.
I would rest my head on his chest
Listening to his heartbeat.
I would try to hold him inside me, all of him,
In each fleeting moment and then he was gone.
Once again reality would return to embrace the void, and
The long anticipated fulfillment became just another memory.
Then came the waiting for his
Footsteps on the wooden porch,
The rattling of the outer door,
And the bells ringing on the inside.
I knew it was just a game, his game,
But it was all I had.
I made too much of it,
More than it was.
But not at all what I
Wanted it to be.
Yet I continued, wanting,
Wishing, and hoping and for what?
For another night? It was just a one night
At a time love.
It feels unreal now,
a waste of me, of my soul and heart.
And now begins the slow fade into blackness and silence, just like all the others, as
My soul bleeds and my heart beat stops and
My eyes, still in their blindness, wish it were not so.
Revelations come to me when I least expect them unwanted, but insistent that I listen.
They are the kind I don’t want to know and don’t want to hear.
But they come anyway . Maybe to clear the way,
To open my heart and eyes and speak the truth to my soul.
But they are hard truths to take.
My heart says no, but my head and soul say “Yes, listen and know”.
My heart is a child, trusting , self-deluding and innocent.
My soul aches for her in her time of pain and sorrow.
Love is not only felt by my heart, my soul loves too.
But my soul is blessed with a stronger constitution, a greater consciousness, a better understanding.
It is older and wants to protect my heart, wants to spare her from pain but knows it can’t.
So it warps itself around my heart and holds her while she weeps and sleeps. It knows that time will heal her and is patient in the waiting time.
My soul knows my heart is good and kind and that she loves unconditionally and breaks because of it.
My soul knows that my heart knows no other way to love so it waits and loves and holds and protects with gentle hands and the love of God.
Together, in time, we will love again, all three of us,
I’m sure of it, my soul told me so.
The dark swallowed me whole – and
The moon knew I could not say no.
You came to me and held me close,
I was putty in your hands – and
The moon knew you could not stay away.
You kissed my face and lips,
I kissed your mouth and eyes- and
The moon felt our building heat.
Your hands slid over my body and
Woke all of my senses – and
The moon felt your passion.
Our lovemaking was hot and real and
Warmed the ground beneath our bodies – and
The moon, not wanting to intrude, turned its face and looked the other way.
While I slept you covered my naked body with flowers from my gardens
And then just walked away, unmoved – and
The moon cried for me.
heartwordsforpoetry 