Epic Love

That epic love, the one we can only know in our deepest heartspace, the one that remains in secret just below the surface, always.  The one we don’t speak of, ever…

It is a love other women of deep emotion and passion will understand as they have felt it too.

That one where all the signs and signals said beware, stay away,

But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

It was the Cinderella fantasy come to life.

A love too good to be true,

And was.

But it remains a time and a love that will stay in your heart and at the edge of your mind forever.

One that brings tears in the present but fond, soft and gentle memories in the future.

A love that was never meant to last, there was too much passion.  It was too intense and raw to be maintained for long.

It came into your heart like an avalanche of emotion, a storm of lust, a tide of love to overtake your Being and then just as violently as it came, it was gone, leaving you lost and heartbroken. 

But in spite of all the pain, it changed you for the better into a woman who felt a love she will never forget, never imagined was possible and will never repeat.

But then, if you are honest with yourself, you knew from the beginning that it was never really yours to keep,

Didn’t you…

I’ll Save Your Place

The doors and windows are open wide and welcome

The wind as it blows through my house and my soul.

It brings a beingness of light and truth, peace and love, disguised as wind.

Trees sway in its beauty,

Souls sing in harmony with its truth and

The unconscious void is filled with its one love.

I know that the empty void from my past existed only in my mind.

My mind was deluded and swayed by the ways of the world but now,

I am neither of the world nor in the world as

The world is in me and you and you and you…

There is no separateness in our beings but great diversity in our humanness,

As it should be, as it was meant to be. The contrast is beautiful.

“Between the silence of the mountains and the crashing of the sea, there lives a land I once lived in and he’s waiting there for me” Moody Blues

So… will you meet me there, in the silence of the mountains, in the void of fullness, in a world of our own making

Where the wind blows its truth into our souls

And surrounds our hearts with love?

If I get there first, I’ll save your place.

Will you do the same for me?

The One that Became the Last

 

The sky is happy to hold you,

While the earth and I still mourn your leaving.

They say that time heals but all these years have not healed my heart and

The emptiness of your absence remains strong within me and here in this place,

 

Although this field where I stand remains the eternal now

As it was when you and I walked here together.

The scent of its grass brings my heart and memory back to you every time and

Makes me wonder if the flowers blooming here remember our footsteps and loving among them?

I visit here often and breathe in the scent of this place and remember what it held for us, just you and me, and then I hide behind that memory’s peace where my heart is soothed, but only for just a while.

And at sunset, sadness returns again to dampen the grass and hold still my heartbeat in that remembrance.

Yet despite the passage of time and depth of my sorrow, this place appears to be unchanged

From when we walked its paths together, hand in hand as if we had all the time in the world.

But when I look deeper, I know it is unchanged on the surface only and, like me,

Still holds its breath and waits, and sighs and wonders why…

Why does the sky get to hold you so close while it and my heart long for your footsteps,

The sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, and the light of your smile?

The answer never comes and as

The sun sets and the horizon grows dark

And takes you away from me, again,

 I wonder…

Do you remember the first time?

The one that became the last?

She is Not a Quitter

 

My little heart keeps asking me “why?”

I hear her tiny voice in the quiet early morning hours,

but I have no answer for her.

She has stayed up all night again.

Thinking about the past, feeling the pain and sorrow of the now.

She has fallen into a deep dark pit,

Her little voice echos off the steep, cold sides.

I keep reaching out to her but her tiny hands

Have not the strength to hold on.

So she sinks back to the bottom and

Remains in sorrow and darkness.

It is so painful to witness this.

She used to be such a happy little thing,

Always positive, always trusting.

Albeit, sometimes a bit too naive for her own good,

But it was a naiveté not based on stupidity or ignorance but

One based on a choice to trust and believe in spite of the red flags not to.

I am afraid for her, she is tired and there are

Beasts down there with her in the darkness.

They are evil, heartless beasts who lie to her,

Who tell her she is not good enough, that she is unlovable and a fool.

They sneak in while she sleeps and

Whisper doubts in her ear.

I keep trying to tell her to be strong and not listen to their lies,

But I don’t think she can hear me yet.

So, I wait on the edge of the pit

With an open mind and open hand to catch her the next time she climbs to within my reach.

I don’t mind waiting.

I know she will try again soon in spite of her pain and sorrow.

I have faith in her – she is not a quitter.

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.

No Longer Enough

At least this one was amusing.

Inappropriate at times, but amusing.

With no history or back story,

Just comical antics and surface details.

A few weeks with no consistency; he came and went,

Tried to pick up where he left off as if no time has passed.

Apparently, he started something he couldn’t finish.

Maybe he never intended to.

But his intentions are of no consequence to me now as

I have taken a step up.

The rules are not the same for this new one,

My old rules no longer apply.

My standards are higher now, they are as elevated as I am.

But In spite of this most recent mistake, I refuse to give up.

My heart still longs for that one touch, that one look, the right one,

The one my heart waits for.

It is all I need, all I want, and so simple but so hard to find.

So, this one can fade back into nowhere from where he came as

Amusement is fun but shallow and

Most definitely no longer enough for me.

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

 

 

Good Enough

I can’t get to it all,

But its good enough.

I can accept that now.

The urgency for more is gone.

My time is well spent, and it is enough.

Less means more.

More time for each one,

Each bean, each tomato, each seed.

The rows welcome me to the garden

Each day filled with goodness and grace.

Jars, 6 at a time with more tomorrow, gleam on the kitchen counter.

I savor the moments of steaming pots and boiling beets.

Summer heart shared with fogged windows and pinging jar seals.

It is more than good enough.