Respite Places

These are respite places.

Or, so we are told.

But in the interim, a simple plotted gesture for wandering souls.

I tell my lover, to make her aware.

She never hesitates to let me be.

She, alone, understands the expelling of, demons, no one else can see.

It is not mystique I seek.

Nor, blind guidance, from sacred places.

It is the silence that can only be found by…

pursuing to understand…

Understand something that will never be…

Never be completely understood.

Yet, the quest stays like a solemn secret stage.

A critiqued, columned, colloquial,

in which peace is at play.

Winter's Beach

Simple, a winter’s beach confronting a warm retreat.

Playing the fool I look back to the promised land of your presence.

Playing the fool I smell your on the dusky powder…

shadowed by only me.

Glancing for your love in the solemn pines and abandoned tundra there is no solace below or from above.

Treading softly, as you have taught, where is the peace that once had been sought?

Is it there are the front door, welcoming, soft and gentle?

Is it there in the moments of life without care?

I walk the woods.

I rove the trail.

Snow…knee deep, moments to myself…

‘did I fail?’

Fail to embrace what you once thought to be grace?

Such a quiet, whimsical, being that has left a memory to trace

This winter funeral leaves me in awe.

This winter funeral only betray’s love and her disgrace.

Pine and Oak

I look and lock down these stairs to the catacombs.

I understand as a stumble, there will never be freedom.

The intertwined pine and oak…lamented before me alludes to a place ‘never to be.’

Hatred and swinging leather belts.

Love mixed with skin pelts.

I write shortly of incidents others have felt.

Thus, I donate my life to disrepair.

To tiled and titled adults without a care.

Tell me now,

how polyester made life light?

Why the campfire of want…became hell?

Did Not Treat You Right

Didn’t treat you right.

I never did.

But then…

all my good intentions were short lived.

I had wished ’til the ends of the earth and back?

Perhaps, not.

Though, thru a break in the pane…

I would have riddled a charismatic plot.

There were…

zero second chances here.

No, to…

two ways

down

a one-way street.

Should have known better back in the day?

Vanity and clarity never find the same bed…

in which to lay.

Dream of Me – Jerry

In the attics of my life, full of cloudy dreams unreal.
Full of tastes no tongue can know, and lights no eyes can see.
When there was no ear to hear, you sang to me.I have spent my life seeking all that’s still unsung.
Bent my ear to hear the tune, and closed my eyes to see.
When there was no strings to play, you played to me.

In the book of love’s own dream, where all the print is blood.
Where all the pages are my days, and all the lights grow old.
When I had no wings to fly, you flew to me, you flew to me.

In the secret space of dreams, where I dreaming lay amazed.
When the secrets all are told, and the petals all unfold.
When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.

_

Jerry Garcia