Emotional to the point of rationality
The rain of today
brings winds before of yesterday
and where the sun tomorrow may lie
strikes but a moment
as your touch upon mine
seldom in future and past may lay.
Tomorrow may shine on yesterday’s flurry,
but, embrace me, love!
Drink me, never but today forever,
those temporal torrents diluting
as through you I flow
and in us deliverance sustain.
As each day repeats itself
–
drip,
–
drip,
–
drip.
This is the longest winter of my life.
Drawing within
need not succumb all in shadow,
folding, what’s there,
weaving within one another
and without another.
All is within you
and all that’s within you in all,
it is only acceptance which differs.
Acceptance which comes from yielding, alone,
the stasis you offer yourself, and all.
Do not be afraid of all that’s within,
the dwellers that slowness and silence deliver.
In noise it is easy to drown out their whispers,
yet life without quiet will swallow all whole.
Admit all there is
for life is a flurry
only if stillness is too much to bear.
I await your gaze,
your lips and touch and passion’s purpose
upon the skin that glows
for your caress alone.
To be lost in me,
rapture seeded in impulsive embrace,
as I fold around and hold you tender
much like fruit in petals spring foresees.
For when the body feels of lovers true
so sprouts in gleaming shine,
the yearning, budding,
for your caress alone.
This work is dedicated to all the lovers distanced by our current emergency; to the flow of nascent romance that must find its way through patience to maintain its grace.
Do not abandon, love, what was there for you before, as for you thereafter it shall remain.
May there be space in the year
for you to rest and to heal;
May there be space in the year
for ease to flow with no fear;
May there be space in the year
for you to reappear.
In darkness she walks the planes of thereafter
as death ‘round lives tender so mutedly preys
today then tomorrow draws her not closer
her presence through time shoring up in life’s bay.
A friend and a jester in shadows enveloped
she stands at my door asking with me to stay
the play of her forces draws me to greet her
for straying in blindness only time may delay.
Through pink and black leaves she outwardly beckons
and hands in cold terror belatedly folds
for both of us know she long here had treaded
leading our cycles unto the beyond.
–
In darkness we walk, praying together
her void with my tears I never did fill
and as I embrace her she weaves in all feeling
priming a heart for life’s waves never still.
Thunders and rains,
beckons and calls
that which from the heaven could pour
and within its meaning conform.
Immersing it all,
as eternity would, set loose
free upon the world to call
and within me storms to form.
The Sun of November
on grey seas reflecting
through solitude waving
and with it I move.
Uncertainty seething
and others sense drowning
the depths of our being
in stillness consumed.
Resistance to yielding
in virtue transforming
through darkness and greeting
an ancestry formed.
The Sun of November
through solitude waving
Fear rooted releasing
and with it I moved.
What I want is to thank
the void
the universe
the mother
the teacher
the ultimate
for speaking to me in my dreams
for rewarding me even if I fail to notice
for calmly teaching me patience
for guiding me to the lessons I need to learn;
for showing me how to be playful
for leading me in the dance of creation
for showering me in gifts of abundance
and doing so more the more I commit
to learning the art of uncertainty
and softness.
I give thanks in gratitude for all that came before me, all that comes through me and all that shall follow, existing in parallel, now.
My heart in thorns is entwined
where light like night
in indigo shine
weary, with fright,
the meek and uncertain
away does divide.
My heart is in brightness conceived
(core pulsing
to rhythmic a beat,)
under thick coating beginning to gleam
revealing the true
and releasing to being.
My heart its own breadth now admits
seeping through thorns
sharp rays as it cracks,
open at last
to life’s greatest gift
as eternity in it softly may drift.
Notes From Afar 