When I Look

When I look in your eyes I see love

I see a certain yearn

I want to be that feel that know that

There is your heart and soul that is beautiful

It is you and I am me

 

When I look in your eyes I see love

I want to hold you

give you promise

that you are so very real

not anyone’s imagination

that you hold the key

to certain beauty and elegance.

 

When I look in your eyes I see love

I only want you to know that it is you

I see I love I know

 

 

He Imagined Her

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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 ~

A Rainy Afternoon

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Seems fitting,

comfortable

familiar words

she comes instantly to mind.

 

A romantic movie

brings me tears

I know

we cannot always be the same.

 

Yet how often do we

pass the reality of our world

inside the dream-swept nature

of someone else with an imagination.

 

We read books, we tell stories

listen to laughter

celebrate victory and dismissal

when while we constantly age together.

 

We are still apart like today,

the rains outside,

intrigue the mystique of sweet

reverie within the scope of passion.

 

I want sometimes, I wish, you might

see me in the rains … again.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda

I Wish For Certainty

Life would be easy,

if when a gasp,

we might choose the next breath,

the wind our motor

to vehicle our lives beyond this

lonely

sedentary

reality whereby the time alone,

leaves such an ill-fated

aftertaste.

 

Oh my, such a mouthful of

derision

said the optimist

to the cynic

rolling down the damp pavement

of their own personal

Autumn,

realizing only now,

there would be less time

to appreciate the evolution

of the seasons,

these our own natural

timetables

that mark assured existence,

our reality.

 

Oh for now,

hop back on the train,

for the human carnivore

our societal ills,

the places we go,

the times we recall,

will only be faint memories,

the years travel by,

and one day,

that gasp we became so dependent upon,

will reach for

another sky.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~