There are these moments where I cease to exist.
Moments I dare not wish away.
Such like, a slight vulnerability we dare not display.
Though a lover may profess their love on any given day.
My crimes of the heart…
Dark and blistery.
And, lonely the roads I have chosen.
Chosen to stay within the refrain of the sane.
Triumphantly, no matter the luster…
Rear-view glances to all hereafters.
Are mine to define.
No fault moments…
Placed in the attic of my mind.
I drink you in, as though, there be no end.
I ache your ailing spirit, as though, it were mine.
If I were set upon a lost ocean…
Whatever you found to be amiss…I would find.
Lover, it hurts so, when your world…
Resigns to the being of…unkind.
Tomorrow will come and take us away.
Import us to the blues.
Retrieving each soul, as though we were never one.
In the deepest of my smallest conviction…
With all of infinity…
I will understand…
We have only just begun!
In the dancing shade of the morning pines
I go searching for her spirit.
Year upon years, this is my choice, by design.
Year upon years, full knowing her shine is something I will never find.
In the oddest of manner, her actions remind me of mother and her nature.
How an awkward summer breeze can bring the charm of relief.
With her hands flat against a wall,
cynically…always leery of the fall.
It is in her purposeful silence that she makes the greatest remark of all.
Arms wide open, her innocence so green.
Having sustained an ocean of gray…
Seemingly born to jump the waves.
These morning thoughts cannot be introduced to anyone but myself.
It is in her rare laugh that I, too, shine.
I am weathered with its glow.
Such as the unavoidable seasons.
In her earthy silent remarks…it is there I find reason.
In my undergrowth, I confide…
first time I wrote about…love, upon a wall…
I settled down with fear.
First time I offered up sheaths of fallen leaf…
a vain pulse…filled the reeds.
These incantations left my heart out in the garden.
And, only moments with romantic blossoms… magical, embedded their seed.