Summer Sunday Evenings

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.

After All

 

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.

Words

Expectations and explanations

Both changing with the wind.

Both a disappointment.

Just words, so many useless words.

They are stubborn and painful,

Mostly mine.

I’m tired, world weary tired.

It’s all too confusing, too many games,

Too many rules and players.

Too much thought.

Leave it all behind

Drop the thoughts,

Don’t believe them

They are not real.

Into Blackness

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.

Just Look

I saw the stars last night,

Didn’t even have to get out of bed.

They were so bright in the cold, dense,winter air

That they shown right through my lacy bedroom curtains.

I saw it as a reminder of what is still there and always will be,

And to find it yet again,

We just have to look through the holes one more time.

I Am Sure

 

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.

It Should Have Been

 

The poetry of my heart

Follows the song of my soul.

Although this heartache drowns me and

Its sorrow depletes my very being,

I hold my love for you close,

To protect it from those who would cheapen it.

From those who don’t believe it ever was, including, sometimes, you.

but I know that

It could have been.

It should have been.

 

(this is an updated, rework of a poem I posted two years ago)

 

 

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.

Changes

Changes are not always positive

Or swift.

Some drag, leaving behind a trail

Of sorrow.

Some move quickly, leaving no time to dwell

In the past.

Some changes are painful but for the better.

Some are just the way it is, neither good nor bad.

We decide which way to go, to let go

And move on or stay stuck, resisting the change.

I don’t know which is harder to do….

I think it depends in a large part on the nature of the change…

Change happens with or without my permission.

Me and you are not the same people we were just moments ago.

The cosmos has reinvented itself a thousand times in the last ten minutes.

So change is common, a fact of life and existence so why do our

Human situational changes sometimes linger

Beyond what they should and so become more important than they really are?

Even a change brought about by me is hard to handle.  It is a step away from what has been and a step into a new future, a good future, a better place within me, yet unsettling nonetheless.

And although change is inevitable, there are consistencies in my life for me to lean on and appreciate in the face of change…

Tomorrow will still come, the sun will rise and shine through my soul and soften the pain that still lingers.

The hoots of the owls in the forest outside my window will strengthen my heart as morning turns to day and the thoughts in my head turn towards the goodness and excitement of the life changes before me.

In spite of uncertainty, these changes are good.  The dark past has settled and sunken to the bottom of my soul where it will always remain, never forgotten, but will no longer be able to hold me captive in its cold grip.  It’s and his falseness and deceptive nature have been fully exposed and rejected.

So the change that has come is the right one.  It is long overdue, and although still painful, it is welcome.

My heart has changed, my livelihood is about to as well after which I will embark on a journey into an unknown future where I will accept whatever may come in this moment.

I will turn my focus inward where things can and will change for the better for me and all those I love…. everyone.

I’ll Take It From Here

I died in my dreams last night.

It wasn’t a scary, tragic death,

No falling off a cliff or

Being hit by a truck,

But a slow, comforting, amber colored death.

A gentle fading away of my sprit and heart.

A last look at a loveless world, and

A sad acceptance of failure and sorrow.

But a small hope remained in my empty heart, a hope that the passage would lead to

Something greater, better and more beautiful.

Some say our dreams reflect our truth,

I feel this one reflects mine.

I have died to the hope of love.

Not the family and friends love that I treasure, but that deep personal love.

A love to share with only him, a once in a lifetime love that is

Physical, spiritual and everlasting.

My heart has been deceived one too many times.

I have given it freely and have had it returned to me broken and unwanted.

My heart was fed just enough to keep it hoping and waiting and loving,

Only to be dealt the final blow of a violated trust and a promise not kept.

Such a simple thing to ask,

But I guess that was too much to hope for.

A friend told me the other night that it was my own fault; I allowed it to happen,

Her words made me feel embarrassed, ashamed that I had

Let him treat me the way he has.

But I think the person doing the mistreating should be the one to be embarrassed and ashamed.

I won’t be made to feel ashamed for trusting him completely and loving him with all my being.  It is the only way I know.

People are always saying to me that “you are right where you are meant to be, God put you there so you could learn and grow.” To that I say, Bullshit!

It is a cruel God who hurts his children,

Who punishes them for loving and trusting. That is not a God I will ever believe in.

But if I am wrong and this is the truth of God’s workings in my life then I guess I should

Thank him for putting me in this place of pain and sorrow, of heartbreak and loss.

You have proved your point, God, and I have learned my lesson well.

You are cruel and not to be trusted.

So I thank you and want you to know that I have learned what you wanted me to know,

But if it’s all the same to you God, don’t do me any favors, I’ll take it from here.