If my heart was not a poem

How the thought of your warmth
warms my bones,
though it is
only a dream.

Were it real …

Choral echoes reach deep
as clouds allow the blue to peep
where rain
such cold rain
once ruled the skies.

These choral echoes
float along
as memory
to raise the dead
and bring about the warmth
of your smile.

If my heart was not a poem
written
but a poem touched,
the seed of your life
through this soul’s soil
would blossom.

Were it real …

Jewel

Reflected heart
your beat, shifted
to a new tune

Unreachable jewel
“Thou liest!”

For when you shone your
soul upon me
I, reached out
only to find
the crown empty
the skies grey
and my heart
bereft.

I care not

There are more jewels in a river
of solitudes
so fear not, I say, fear not
for the sun shines in each raindrop
and each raindrop
nourishes

 

Invisible

invisible
to you

the busy
and the naked

the slow
and the silent

the impossible
and the blind

invisible
to me

Reveal soul
reveal and break through
open that vein of solitude
and see
you and
me

busy
slow
impossible

naked
silent

and blind

Break through
and see

Love’s nightingales

Shadows do not diminish
when the sun’s bloom wilts
they merely fade into themselves
; chameleons of this butterfly world

White it shines
as it flits
landing almost
a kiss
almost an enchantment
upon solitude
upon memory

Songs, dreams and soft thoughts
these butterflies do not diminish
they are love’s nightingales
; a kind of paradise

Moonbeams
shine through
silent awakenings
to land, perhaps
upon a kiss
upon a
spark of magic
to whisper
… to paint

How is it you do not diminish
is it because your butterfly heart
echoes this fragile beat of mine
; glass, stained

Emergence

So near
yet so distant

I know how trees feel
as the sun kisses them

I see now why they reach up
how they, live and die to feel

So far away
is your smile
and your embrace
yet so near

I know how flowers feel
as the bees drink them

I see now why they blossom
how they, live and die to feel

So, your shadow
reaches in to pluck me from my dreams
from my safe place
from my prison of solitude
yet, there are no prisons
except for those we create within us

I know how rivers feel
as the fish breathe them

I see now how they flow
why they are invisible; feeling

So sublime
is this emergence