It is when the pain becomes so unbearable,
when the hope is gone,
when even waiting and having faith,
seem to be a ludicrous option.
When the knowledge of what is real and fantasy
do blur themselves,
so that there is no edge,
it just runs open for miles into the country,
where no one might ever find it again.
There is a comfort in understanding the country life,
it is a sweet simplicity,
not meant to be ignored,
only certainty allows its existence
to become a natural course of one’s life,
their hope and dreams,
the uncanny ability to know peace.
There would also seem to be a purpose,
a reason to live,
because there are no obstacles,
when we can walk freely in the wood,
to drift into the sheltered brush of the country,
a place where nature begins,
and let’s everyone return.
I used to believe happiness
lasting well beyond the moment.
I know today life is a mystery
we are bound to,
solutions are found in love.
I wonder sometimes if eternal
can really mean always,
or are we all simple pawns.
I felt an emotional loss today
while the evening sun
continued its descent on my day.
I believe I am a shell of my life
in the evening silence,
yet fully aware this is all my doing.
I am aware that my life is blessed,
to know love,
is to surely understand sweet elegance.
We choose our mood,
depends upon the time of day,
time of year,
time we stayed away from
wherever it might be that could
cause a sordid
amount of uneasy fear,
you know the affair.
We always want the other to be okay,
perhaps it is a personality,
the one we rather delight to be
inside a state of mind that allows,
to carry the weight of our day.
It comes in tears,
when the winds take hold of our sanity,
we watch the clouds convey their own
sort of spirituality,
that combined element of nature
alongside the human condition,
and when the storms arrive,
well, someone might suggest
It is in love
we find this mystique,
the muse of our idyllic fountain,
an eternal fire,
a desire to always know the beauty,
to run across the elegance,
in our every turn,
So to be forlorn then,
is it an unhappy sort of feeling lost,
or might it perhaps be
might it be,
which when we find our reflective
personality examines our reality,
we become okay,
with a little time,
just don’t ever forget what love really is,
I won’t, I promise.
I struggle with words,
they seem to carry on a certain storyline,
one I can never really grasp,
until the print allows my eyes to remember,
the swimming in motion ends
when it becomes the right time to let go.
I’d like to find the imagery in pain,
is it the steel edge cutting into a red ribbon,
where eyes might watch the soul slip away
in steady stream
no more hesitation,
a quiet, soothing, not so eternal release.
A friend of mine once said to me,
it is true we live our lives a very short time,
so in that span of countless hours,
we might remember love,
for it is that spiritual energy allows our smile,
if only for a brief instant,
to give us hope, a meaning and reason to survive.
I know that sometimes words might convey meaning,
but if it isn’t felt then they do become
only a semantic journey filled with imagery and pause.
I wonder the fragrance of her hair,
when nestled in her shoulder, lips touch skin,
Let me breathe in your sense
before you leave me forever.
For it is that permanence
occurs every time I say good bye
Today I have been watching time
wishing only some sign,
an indication that tells me I am not crazy,
that this is real,
the ache I feel is the response to losing her.
I wanted summer to be alive with love,
a shower of affection like a late summer rain,
the two of us, soaked linens, laughing,
kissing each other in the constance
of a watery memory,
the times we would together,
flatter each other
with a certain elusive desire.
Yet it is today I stand
I wonder how much longer she can
let my need to share sensual dreams
her being by my side,
the scent of her,
stays in my mind,
There are these tears, they build,
a sort of wall of a waiting storm,
I like to imagine a sweeter guild
of love than ever might we form.
I wander toward a make believe
palace on the top of this hill,
it is here I would wish for reprieve
from the scream inside so shrill.
The mounting crags of spindled rock,
would slip me into sweet oblivion,
if in a moment I would look to block
the piercing light I rest my eyes upon.
Oh to find the shadows of my common
world, whereby, the normalcy of why,
would only bury the familiar horizon,
when only together we might forever cry.
I have found my way again in the blue,
A moody appreciation always loving you.
I wanted to write about love tonight,
I still do, I’m struggling,
and I wonder sometimes along this journey,
if that is the process,
the goal, the outcome, the essential truth,
See tonight, I told someone my heart is in their hands,
I felt like we both knew,
we responded alike,
cried, sighed, tried laughter, it worked,
it always has,
positive energy –
yet, tonight, I’m sad, my tears are dry,
I don’t understand,
how love can suddenly become
Oh, trust me, I’m a romantic fool,
I get loss, and the rabbit hole,
I just didn’t anticipate hanging this far off the edge.