Talking About Sex and Love

passion

We differ,

men and women,

apparently,

so I’ve been told,

in a sort of scold,

 

We differ in sex and love

I would argue,

giving her my love

is probably

a vulnerable move.

 

We differ in how we understand

the other might respond,

the other has a plan,

when in silence,

we stand now alone

 

We were once the same

if only, a silent interlude


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

photo found on pinterest

He Imagined Her

Screen Shot 2018-11-30 at 5.15.19 PM.png

It was on a Friday night,

she spoke to him

wondering

she said she waited there

just to know

to wonder

if maybe he ever,

or if he might now.

 

He wondered then,

in the quiet of a winter eve

could she hear him

feel him,

might she know

if in a silent beat

of some nostalgic moment,

would he

wait.

 

He chose to listen

to a song would bring him a tear

always a joyful cry,

he wanted her to know

the celebration of love

could only contain

the tenets of a cherished

mystique


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

Reaching Out

what matters

when worlds once aligned

begin a collision course

where care and compassion

generate gall.

 

oh it is the absurdity

the human condition

forgetful, forgotten

inside an insidious

pattern

of self-preservation.

 

Love thyself,

indeed do for it is us

the sole recipient

of a heart so large

our chest aches

in its capacity.

 

we hold life in check

rather than our tears embrace.

 

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

(my dog is dying and I need to cry)

 

 

In Knowing

now the leaves are falling

the skies speak a grey

interlude before snow

will blanket our lives.

 

she must know the ache

so real and tangible

every moment he wake

her in dreams beyond today

 

he must wonder now

forever in her silence

is love this real

or does it rely upon science

 

his experiments derail

his love for her without fail

 

~ finding my way, a personal journey ~