Soft Sadness (April 2015/with edits)

The silence of midnight is

The silence of wanting.

It is dark and lonely. 

A time soft with sadness

Until the memories sneak back in

and bring with them a scent, or a look

And it is almost enough, almost

But not quite.

 I know I will long for that touch

That voice, that look,

Until once again he comes back and turns the silence of longing

Into loving.

A time when my sorrow will be erased by his touch,

His hand in mine and

His kiss will fill my sole like

A light in the darkness.

Yet again…

Still,

I know, as I have all along that 

The darkness will return and

He will never be mine to keep.

Loneliness at Dusk (re-post from 2015)

He is still here at times, but in body only

His soul has left me.

I miss him most at dusk, when the day’s work has ended

And evenings past times have yet to begin.

Those times in our past when dinner was cooking in the kitchen and

Warm light filled the house.

When before dinner we would walk hand in hand through the

Gardens, across the fields to the edge of the wood

Where the songs of night

Drifted in from the forest and filled our senses.

The essences of early evening,

A feeling more than a time wherein.

We were love and completeness.

We would finish our dinner in the kitchen and

Take our wine to the porch and watch as

The last light faded from the landscape while

The sun’s glow lingered in the treetops.

Evening deepened and the world stopped spinning.

All was calm, all was quiet. And when the hour was late,

We would climb the stairs together and

Sink into our inviting bed.

He always began by sliding his hands over my body as

An expression of his love.

I could feel the heart of his passion

Against my lips.

As his smoking soul ignited the

Fire in my heart,

We would come together in light and love.

The passion almost too much to take as

He whispered words of love and lust in

My ear and held my body and life together in his arms.

It was at those times that my soul threatened to spill out of my body

And wash away in the heat of the moment,

But his strength held it back

Covering it with his love, protecting me from myself.

And each time, as the lovemaking ended and his body

Lay hot and limp on mine,

I would look into his eyes and know,

Just know, that the world, our world, was as it should be.

In that moment I had no darkness to fear, no sadness to run from

Could feel no distance between us in the night.

Instead, the darkness was comforting in its

Completeness, the totality of its effect sealed our fate each and every time.

But in spite of the lust, the passion and heat, in spite of

A love that felt as if it transcended time and space

There came a change.

A change that for me meant an emptying of hopes, an end to dreams, and the pain of knowing that after all the sincerity in the darkness,

It was just a lie and my love would never be returned.

And so it remains a love, a hope, a memory and a dream held only by one

Struggling to survive in a lonely bed at dusk.

His Words

Some words are hard.

Their sharp edges slice and leave

Smooth slippery cuts, deep and painful.

Some words are afraid.

They bend and give,

And slide away in the heat of the moment,

Too weak to last and too shy to stay.

Some words are bitter

And stay bitter long after they are spoken.

These bitter ones are hard to accept as they are often spoken in anger.

They are vile and spiteful and

Cling and control and hurt without end.

Some words are strong.

They can be good or bad, right or wrong,

Truth or lies, it doesn’t matter as

Their strength alone makes them believable.

Some words are soft and warm,

They heal and hold, love and give,

And are too often mistaken for weakness.

But the most important words remain silent.

As when speaking the greatest truth, there is no need for words.

No hard or soft ones.

No bitter or strong.

And even the soft and lovely can be left behind.

So leave them all behind and let your soul speak the truth with your actions and heart,

uncluttered by words and their convoluted meanings.

Learn to live in that place where the universal language of love and peace speaks in silence,

The place where we all are one in His light and love,

Where sorrow is left behind, words of humankind have no power or meaning and

Love is all there is.

Words are way overrated.

9/2/18   Happy Birthday Lord Krishna, Hari Om

 

 

Darkness

The stillness of the night air

Hangs heavy outside my window.

Its darkness threatens to come in,

But my reading light keeps it at bay, and

Although the light is bright, drips of silent night

Sneak in around the edges of my window sill

And puddle on the floor by the curtain hem

To remind me of the darkness that lurks just outside

My window

And my heart.

He Understood

When I stopped talking to God,

He stopped talking to me.

When I stopped listening to him,

He stopped listening to me.

He is not spiteful,

Just  honest.

When I blamed him for my circumstances,

He shed a single tear in eternity and was sad for my choices.

When I was angry with him for a death,

He understood.

When I questioned the reasons for my being,

He sent inaudible words of encouragement into the lonely darkness of my soul, words only I could hear.

When I pulled my hand from his grasp,

He stood back and quietly waited for my return with infinite patience.

And when my errant ways finally did lead me back to him,

He treated me as if I had never left.

 

An Everlasting Light

I need to see the moon lit patterns of white and shadow on the grass and hear how they speak to me once more.

The chimes are calling me again from the silence of my soul to look, listen and observe.

I need to hear the hungry owl’s cries in the night, feel its silent wings move swiftly in the darkness,

Too swiftly for its pray, and watch with detachment the

Swift death, natural and inevitable, made a villain only

By my thoughts.

I need to leave my disturbed thoughts and become the stillness in the chaos,

I need to reenter the silent swiftness of the owl’s wings and moon shadows.

 

For it is the only place to be and

The only place where I have ever existed.

I must never be distracted again.

My being had begun to seep away while I was preoccupied,

Distracted by another, an unnatural evil but one of my own making.

 

But the owl’s wings are bringing me home now,

My time of regression is done, but it has taken its toll.

 

My heart is weaker, my thoughts harder to read.

There is never regressing without damage to my soul.

 

Solitude and stillness, as a getaway to the road back, are coming into view…

The road back leads to the place of reclamation of my soul,

 

Back to the essence of bliss, to the everlasting light and to

His hand in mine.

 

Rain

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

Falls in sheets, slides down the roof and 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 me close to the ground.

Forest sounds are muted and muffled and

Light is  defused into grayness.

It is not a sad and depressing grayness,

But a soothing and peaceful shade,

Full of the necessity of remembered sorrows and joys.

I love a  rainy day that is soft and dark.  It begs me to stop, rest, and be mindful of my surroundings and loves.

It reminds me 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.