Rain

 

The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as the

Rain falls in sheets and slides down the roof over its edge in a curtain of water.

Tree leaves dance with the weight of the rain and

Flowers wash their faces in its freshness.

The sky is lower on rainy days and

Holds us close and grounded.

Sounds are muted and muffled and

Light is  defused in grayness.

But it is not a sad and depressing grayness,

But a soothing and peaceful shade

Full of the necessity of sorrow.

A rainy day is soft and dark.  It begs us to stop, rest and be mindful of our surrounds and loves.

It reminds us to take the time to be lulled by the patter of rain on the windows

Into a place of inner stillness,

And there remain, content to just be and accept what is.

I Don’t Know

The street lights blink out at dawn, and

On at dusk, as do my thoughts of him.

 

The night gives them permission to rise and be, but at dawn

The sun diminishes their power and they hide and sleep.

 

If they would just stay asleep, and

Leave me alone it would be so much easier, but they don’t listen to what I want.

 

They are crafty and sneak around the edge and into my heart

When I’m not looking.

 

They creep into the conversations in my head

Unnoticed until it is too late.

 

They lie in wait for me just inside

The front door when I get home from work,

 

Ready to snuggle in

For the night as soon as I walk through the door.

 

I don’t understand their persistence.

Do they think anything will change? Do they know something I don’t?

 

Are they worried there will come a time when

I will forget about them, or him? If that is the case, then they don’t understand that

 

for me forgetting is not an option.

I don’t choose who I love or who I want.

 

Therefore, I also cannot choose who I will

Forget.

 

My love is based on honesty, the truth of my feelings,

And passion, lots and lots of passion, and I cannot pretend it is any other way.

 

So in spite of my objections, these thoughts have stayed 

Sad but comfortable, friends in their familiarity, taking up space in my being.

 

And if they ever leave, what will replace them?

What will fill the hole they leave behind in my heart, my soul, my mind?

 

I don’t know.

 

If that time comes and they leave, how long it will take me to notice,

That they have gone?

 

I don’t know.

 

And will the me that remains behind be the same me as before?

Before the dawn turned out the lights and he consumed my soul?

 

I may never know.

Other Things Die Harder

I like to think that it is settling down now, fading away, but maybe not.

It is done and yet…

Some things die hard, and

Other things die harder.

The light has gone out so

There is nothing more to see,

Nothing to look forward to, nothing and no one to hold and

Although the disconnect is intentional,

The physical reality has not changed, it has

Not gone away because, after all, I still remain.

My perception of the circumstances has shifted, slightly.

It is based more on the truth now but the intentional disconnect remains the reality.

Is it the same for the other? I think not. 

He has no reason and no meaning to his thinking as it is all based on deception.

He deceived me

And himself and

A life based on lies can hold

No meaning.

Some things die hard, and

Other things die harder.

The Witching Hour

The witching hour,

A time of infinite possibilities.

Midnight is what I want it to be,

Sometimes magical, other times evil.

But the times of evilness are of my own making,

Mine alone.

It is my free choice, I can drift and float in the essence of magical wonder or

Chain myself in the darkness of a black soul.

Both exist in abundance

In the witching hour and I decide which to feed.

The ability and freedom to choose is a grave responsibility,

Frightening in its implications.

There is no one else here,

But they are all watching

Which choice will I make?

Witch choice will make me?

Night Shadows

 

Sheets of white surround me in

A blanket of feathered softness as dreams of him linger

 on the edge of sleep, my being cloaked in night’s darkness.

Through my darkness, I watch the night shadows drift past the windows,

They have lives of their own, the darkness becomes them.

The textured blackness of night can be comforting in its sameness.

A sameness that frees me from the eyes of judgment.

And as I lie back and watch his image leave the edge of sleep

I feel him join with me in whispered prayers the essence of which lingers on when sleep has fled.

But they are short lived prayers and are consumed by the night shadows to hide in the sameness of the textured blackness

Unanswered, dissolving and alone

Forever.

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.

The Dance of Loneliness

Beware the wounded woman

Of the forest.

 

If you hear her cries, run or she will

Envelope you in her sorrow.

 

Her tears will burn holes in your soul,

And her sorrowful eyes will melt your heart and haunt your dreams.

 

The full moon brings her out, she is

Searching, always searching for the pieces of her broken heart.

 

She used to dance on the dirt paths in the moonlight but,

That was before she was betrayed and

 

Left alone in the moonlight to dance the silent

Dance of loneliness.

He Owns Me

He runs his hands over my body like he owns it,

And he does.

He whispers love and lust in my ear like he owns me,

And he does.

His words wrap my heart in love and joy like they own it,

and they do.

His deception tears my heart out and stomps it into the dirt,

and it hurts.

The sadness he leaves with me will hurt forever whether he meant to or not

and so it will.

He will never be replaced in my heart,

I don’t want him to be.

This love will never end

Because I will not let it.

Tea Mugs and Wine Glasses

Come, sit and sip with me,

The tea will warm our hands, the wine our hearts.

Hold my hands across the table,

Watch and feel my eyes melt into yours.

Your heart hears mine but you pull

Your sweater tight and muffle its cries.

Let it out, it only wants to share

Don’t be afraid,

It won’t leave you for me and mine

Won’t leave me for you, but

They will meet when

Our chests touch and

Their harmonic beauty will speak to us of peace and love and

Lull us to sleep

Among the tea mugs

And wine glasses.

Haiku 4 poems

Uncommon fair time again

All natural and good

Wholesomeness is its hallmark

Break

I expect so little now

Is it still to much?

Let go, watch me fall apart

Break

The birds are very busy

They sense it is here

Frost on the field this morning

Break

The humming birds are now gone

No one saw them leave

They slipped away in the night