today
thoughts wander through misty skies
and
my heart
turns back,
feeling for you.
joy
unleashed
unfettered
& unrequited.
and still
I rejoice
in the giving.
such pleasure
grips the soul
eternal.
that love
was not to your
taste;
yet selfishly
I savored
stirring your pot.
reminded
of the love
that I am,
I thank you.
little
drops
of
paradise
flood this peaceful soul:
silence.
bird chatter.
a gently snoring dog.
combining into a maelstrom
of calming delight.
life
flows with wondrous
beauty-
like
young lovers
cleaving unto
the magic of their
bliss.
what magic
sweeps
through this cool
tepid
wind?
ashes swirl
and
fall.
breeze brushed
and
longing,
ashes trace
‘cross
lost lovers’
lips.
ash.
and tears.
crashing gently
through,
history tickles
and
unravels my soul.
ashes dance,
and I am home.
though paths diverged
long ago,
perhaps we may yet shelter
in the comfort of each other.
faith leaps
from this happy heart.
to sink,
and
to soar perhaps,
with you.
unwaveringly fascinated
and
still
patiently in love,
with you.
thank you,
for this taste
of infinity.
hope
springs…
warm
kind eyes that have
snatched stars,
and this soul;
a smile
pure
and filled with
life
&
love
&
sugarplums;
tiny hand
softly clapsed within
me.
joy contagious, when
the soul is
set free.
waiting.
a cup
that never runneth.
even birdsong
drowns
in its own stagnation.
something,
coming but
never here….
only the
waiting.
waiting for love to finally (re)appear.
waiting for destiny to thrust aside care.
waiting for hope to push back fear.
waiting to age, one more year.
flowing
through rushing currents
of life ecstatic,
still my friend,
i wait for you.
mist slides
up my bones, and
a cool morning
hangs
in the hills.
dark wings pound
at the moistened air,
to welcome a
dozing
sun.
what dreams were lost
to the twilight moon?
what lusts lingered
long after a dawn that never came?
which hopes,
lofted to the heavens,
shall fall
to the mercy of small men?
eyes closed wise,
fire rises
again.
your STORY
buried,
under the debris
of the self righteous delusion of dharmic illusion.
your MAGIC
hidden,
away
behind the
cashmere curtains
of holy tricksters:
self-proclaimed sages.
your LIGHT,
dimmed,
by a fear to BE
greater.
your VOICE,
muted
by parroted aphorisms.
YOU,
wonderful YOU,
just a wisp
of the
Beauty contained within.
you need not be limited.
and diminished
by their stolen jargon.
you CAN let go these borrowed
pretensions,
and
Love
you,
and the
star’s fire that you are.
come
dance and play within the flame;
Burn this mutha’ down,
and then,
let’s fly
as we wild things do.
constantly seeking
peace,
we find
only life’s jagged pieces….until
we slip
into the refreshing flow of our
journey.
then,
and only then, are
we truly
home.
welcome back my friend.
calling faintly
from the ether,
her enticingly familiar
figure
beckons
and
instills
fear.
the brink of consummation
is the precipice from which we
tumble,
together at first
and then,
rudely,
roughly,
rapidly,
we fall away from
ourselves
and the each other
into shells of distraction and,
(perceived truths?)
theDeprevation 