When Autumn Calls

There is wisdom to the dying embers of summer,

the cold relents, our lives sheltered,

we haven’t the opportunity to bask in complete

naked truth,

instead, we clothe our lives around tenets of normalcy

preparing for the cold,

anticipating the old

until we can find renewal in the spring.

 

Yet for now we must acknowledge the subtle decay

of that which we love,

and thereby we count on the resilient nature

of our heart and soul,

that which will remain our hope and guidance

until the following sunrise …

because next days always speak more fondĀ  of the immediate.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

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 ~

Walking In

Its atmosphere

familiar

the sounds, the people, the energy,

a little Moody Blues,

I’m with her again,

in this moment,

I can feel the soft touch of fingertips

searching, yearning, a quiet resonate gasp,

the nature of this,

a love

we both would understand

if confusion could not lay in between,

the soft sense of a night sky,

familiar ground,

a coffee nearby,

another nostalgic notion,

I do recall

when last I did see her,

it was here in this parallel universe,

where our lives

were tied to the reality of a locked door,

a smile, a laugh, a knowing glance

a quiet evening,

when love did seem to draw

hearts closer together,

to another time,

in recent days,

lips did touch,

lives did matter,

time did

stand still while

walking in.


~ finding my way, a personal journey ~

for Zelda

If I Could Hold You

I would not want to let you go,

feeling your soft reaction to fingertips

touching your cheek,

your eyes searching for reason,

and me,

my eyes watching you,

the sweet response of lips that would touch,

if only in my imagination,

I could,

perhaps I would then,

hold onto your passion forever.

 

I was driving home tonight,

and took an exit that reminded me

of you,

everything I do,

the places I go,

when I can,

I remember looking to my side,

seeing you there,

perhaps a hand on my shoulder,

the most sensual nature

of sweet love,

a reckoning of our reality.

 

If when I do think of you,

if I might,

would you be alright

if then we might imagine

somehow, someway, if life were sweet,

if I could hold you … forever.


~ 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

Wanting

A sinking feeling remains

the cold breeze of autumn return

whereby with streaking skies

the accent of winter will loom

gives a romantic flair

to a sunny afternoon.

 

Yet now the night,

the breeze turns slowly to a chill

the response to events

yet offering remedy at stake,

the craft of attraction

brought to a silent halt.

 

What we know today

feels like a lean upon slippery

rocks in a natural pull of gravity

seeking peace

yet lowering our sad yes

to find the chasm scream below.

 

We are the least important value

when a solemn regret is our scheme.


 

~ just finding my way, a personal journey ~

This Way, Every Day, We Fall Away


If a sun might rise in wistful autumn

might the blazing maple speak a sonnet.

For when hue shining spectacular let

sweet mind visit simple love is solemn.

 

Wake readily would human condition

in accentuate disclosure in fall

moments leading toward his callous gall

wanting her redeeming peace a notion.

 

Ardent leaves breaking free will symbolize

a passing, swift as a breeze will carry

forward important energy, tarry

none will be argument for we the wise.

 

Is love is meant is time is not we cease,

Whisper sweet we descend to soil in peace

– for Zelda

 

~ just finding my way, a personal journey ~