I can trust, That as my truth rises from the abyss, The light does not frighten you, And that you can hold the hand of such a resurrection. I can hope, That as the power of my heart shakes the fallen ash, and turns to embers the unholy bonds of fear, That you walk with me through the quaking. For what is this life about, If not the quakes and shakes of transformation, In the bleeding wounds of warriors left to die? Reborn, Seeking pleasure in their honor, Finding desire in their truth, Knowing love in the scars the demons have left on mystic flesh, Like hieroglyphics, Scribbled in the sand. I can pray, That as my wings sprout in the gashes left upon me, That you will hold my hand to fly by my side, And not to hold me to the ground. I can wish, That as you see the views of love from lofty heights, That you will kiss me even as the lightning strikes, Knowing I will burn before you will ever feel the heat Come scorching through your shell. For what is this love about, If not the growth of heaven's wings, And the flight of Angels who have fallen so in love? Soaring, Peeking from the other side of stars, Laughing as clouds of truth cleanse their surrendered hearts, Tears of joy, Falling like rain. Do not seek to find me in the grave, For I will not exist in that eternal prison, I am born within your heart, And I live within your sacred graces, Close your eyes and find me there - your truth resounds, I speak your name in reverence of all I was born to do. Let others be mystified in their fear, But walk with me in matrimony of truth and love, Let courage be our name. Seek not diamonds, for they are falsehoods of the highest order, But find my bond in my footsteps, In my tears, In the very breath that flows across the back of your neck. But know the symbol of my humanity is real, Like a ring placed in a sacred oath scoured into the rock-face of my life, Too deep to be weathered by the winds, Or washed away by the floods of demons sure to pass. We, you and I, Will walk among the redwoods, Kiss the sea with our bonded hearts, Taste the mountain air with lips made ready in the morning, Raising the soul of the Earth simply in our embrace, With our hands held firm, We kiss, and the heavens explode in what should be. For isn't that what life and love are all about?
Category: Poetry (Page 3 of 36)
You are my dream, sweet love,
The music that soothes the savage beast,
I hear you,
In every trickle that springs from my soul,
In every whisper that seeps from my heart,
In every rustle that sweeps through the willow’s leaves.
Walking through this life,
Leaving footprints in the sand,
I feel you,
As I have since the dawning of my first day,
You, the light shining in my soul,
The fire burning lighting the path ahead.
Though it took some time,
I’ve been lost, hopelessly at times,
We’ve finally met as promised,
Your hand in mine I feel life raise me from a slumber,
Your lips, guiding me to that sacred promised land.
We are home.
Don’t let me end this day
Without reminding you of what has always been a truth,
Even before we could spell the words,
We’ve written in each other’s book of life.
Because, I love you,
Always have, always will.
When does the waiting end, my Willow?
As the breeze blows gently through the tides of time,
As the Sun rises dutifully beyond the plains,
I wait, patiently, for that day to unfold.
There are those moments,
Intense longing through the rhythm of love,
The stoic stone harbored deep within my soul,
Cracks…
Dusty refuse falls, lost in the abyss.
One day, if I am lucky,
I will look at my wrinkled hands,
And wonder where the time has gone,
Seeking just a minute more with you,
My heart not wanting our moment to reach its end.
And I will look back upon the Spring breezes,
Spent alone, talking to the trees,
Time well spent,
But not with the tree I love the most,
Perhaps then I shall curse the solitude.
Then a memory of the Summer dreams,
Left unanswered as I beat the drum alone,
Dusted chills running down my aching flesh,
As the rain washed the sweat from my brow,
I hum a song meant for your ear alone.
The Autumn comes,
And the rusty leaves scatter in the chilling wind,
Squirrels gathering hope for their winter stores,
I seek the warmth of a fire lit by your eyes,
But, alas, I find the embers of hopes yet to be realized.
And then, the winter returns,
A single set of footprints in the snow,
A heart drawn with purpose on a settled stone,
A lone finger etching truth upon her flesh,
Repeating the mantra as though it was his own…
…Patience.
Said the heart’s silence to the beat that gave it life,
“I fear dying before I have my full take of you,
of being lost before I’ve found life in your eyes.
I fear the awakening without you near to kiss,
and I fear sleep without having felt you stir
swaddled in this love.”
Said the heart’s beat to the silence that gave it cause,
“I fear being silenced before we’ve climbed to sultry places,
of being quiet before the ending to our song.
I fear my final sunrise without seeing its warm glow
Light up your face in ecstasy,
Having known the truth of our existence.”
Says the Soul to both as they measure dreams against reality,
“I have given you such an opportunity,
Thrown signs at your feet, spelled works in the numbness of your brain,
Life is gift because it does not last forever,
The scent of mortality should give lovers a reason not to pause.
I have shared with you such tales that the two of you have scrawled,
Colored your blood with the crimson ink that drives your blessings,
Filled your veins with truth and passion,
And yet…
You treat fear as if it is some sculpture,
Let love too slowly whittle away its imitation marble,
One day,
If not beaten by the silence of that beating heart,
You will see that fear you paid such homage to,
Was nothing more than rotting shale,
Unworthy of your honor,
Your attention,
And the time that you wasted bending knee at its feet.”
And the heart said nothing,
It was helpless in repose,
Lost to the sounds of a distant-sounding drum,
It’s rhythmic beat lost to the silence it so loved,
The Soul shrugged and dropped another sign at her feet,
Poked him again at the back of his head somewhere,
Hoping they could finally embrace the truth.
© 2019 Tom Grasso, All Rights Reserved
I watch him walk away,
That son of mine,
A piece of me much younger,
Now getting older,
Causing me to count my remaining years.
Memories of your first breaths,
Arms and legs flailing in disarray,
A mind and heart born so innocent,
Life poured out of me as you held me by my finger,
It filled your hand back then.
Recalling your first steps,
That smile, that laugh,
Some things that have never changed,
My boy, how fast the time flew by,
In an instant life has changed direction.
And your first words,
Your personality flowing joy and laughter,
You made me laugh right from the beginning,
So much of me there is to see in you,
I struggle to keep you from repeating the mistakes of your father.
The swish of a diaper
Now replaced by the sounds of sneakers on the floor,
The sweet sounds of baby talk,
Now conversations of a young man speaking his truth
To the older version of himself.
The once-soft skin laden with baby jiggles,
Now becoming strong in the burden of a larger frame,
Context notwithstanding, what a powerful soul you are,
You want to grow up so fast,
I beg you to please slow yourself down.
For one day you may be me,
Watching the best part of you walking away,
Heading towards his own destiny,
And you will hope,
That he takes the best parts with him.
For now, I will watch you head in your own direction,
A tear flowing down my face
Toward my heart, a heart filled with love,
For you are, and always will be, my son,
And I am, and always will be, your dad.
© 2019 Tom Grasso, All Rights Reserved
The fish has never said to the sea,
“How is it that I exist with you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You within me, me within you?”
The cardinal has never said to the sky,
“How is it that I embrace you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You surrounding me, me inhaling you?”
Like this, my soul has never said to you,
“How is it that I have found you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You loving me, me loving you?”
We know the answer, you and I,
We wrote it on our page long ago,
Before the first breaths of our infancy,
In a journal left for us at Heaven’s door.
We used to meander about some desert plains,
The salty taste of a kiss an oasis unto itself,
We used to gather wildflowers at the base of a great mountain,
Dancing in the fragrance until the Moon touched our skin.
We used to gaze from the seat of a high summit,
Dreaming of the sea,
We used to bathe in the depths of love’s great ocean,
Talking about one day climbing that mountain over there.
Things we’ve done before this lifetime,
And things we’ve seen since the day we first drew breath,
Have carved steps in the stone to take us to those great heights,
And have taught us to swim in the pool of life, where we have found each other again.
May I never again question the beauty of what we are,
And may you soon not fear the handholds and footholds
In the rockface that gets you to me,
For we were born to know the truth, to live the truth, to be the truth.
For I know now what I knew way back then,
That should I not awaken to kiss your lips again,
I have lived, and will live again,
To find you.
© 2019 Tom Grasso, All Rights Reserved
In 36 hours Hands meant to touch, Will be reunited. Words now unsaid, Will grace the hearts of lovers. Lips left dry by time and space, Will have their thirst ended in a moment. Hearts left weeks to dream, Will embrace the sweetest of returns. Minds left to wonder through technology, Will again find simplicity in love’s togetherness. In 36 hours Things will go back to how they were meant to be, And flames will be united on a single candle. The Spring winds will blow, And truth will be uncovered in absent desert sands. The bright Sun will rise, And warm their flesh together. The stories will be told, As their words bleed on the canvas of their lives. In 36 hours. That’s all it takes. Forsaking the hours past since their last kiss, Ending the torment created by the empty space In their nook. 36 hours. Let it be, That my life continues for at least that long. That my breaths get me to that space. That my heart beats strong toward such a destiny. A simple prayer from a complex man. 36 hours. 36 days. 36 years. Fovever.
Sometimes I am sad, and I don’t know why. Sometimes I see things coming that aren’t really there. Sometimes I see threats in the shadows where none exist. Sometimes I fear falling even when I am on stable ground.
And I don’t know why.
Sometimes I am sad and I know exactly why. Sometimes I see things coming that are really there, even when I deny their existence. Sometimes things in the shadows reach out and bite me. Sometimes even the most stable of ground crumbles beneath my feet.
And I don’t know why.
Sometimes I don’t know or understand why life has been so challenging. Sometimes I falter, and I hit the ground hard. Sometimes I sin, and don’t know who to ask for forgiveness. Sometimes I can hear angels crashing into the windows just outside my bedroom door.
And I don’t know why.
Sometimes life shows me why I have been so challenged. Sometimes I rise after the hardest fall. Sometimes I forgive myself and seek penance in mending my open wounds. Sometimes I care for angels with broken wings so that they may fly away.
And I don’t know why.
Sometimes the echoes in my life become too great to bear. Sometimes tears soak me to the bone and the chill of the air around me steals my breath away. Sometimes I feel utterly alone.
And I don’t know why.
Sometimes I welcome the silence and seek the emptiness. Sometimes tears wash away my fear and gift me a blessed renewal. Sometimes I find warmth in a heartfelt embrace. Sometimes I need to be alone.
And I don’t know why.
I don’t know why about a lot of things. But I will wipe away the tears and brush the dust off my wounded self just to seek a smile in the wilderness. I will find a way to climb the stones and love the mud just to view the gates of heaven. I will seek the answers and know the truths if just to gain one more breath. I will survive because I have found no other choice.
And I don’t know why.
A click Like a penny tapped on a hollow stone, Tap…tap…tap The seconds tick by too slowly. A drip Like a summer rain falling off a weathered leaf, Drip…drip…drip Time tests the patience of heart and mind. Thunder rolls Crackling hard through the windswept willows, Boom…boom…boom Awakened to the truth of fleeting life. Clocks spin I cannot stop the hands from counting down Tick…tock…tick Wasting time counting seconds passing by. Tombstones align Neat rows of stories long forgotten Tap…tap…tap The penny taps on hollow stones again. If only love remembered…
What can be gleamed,
From a single strand of hair?
From its tip,
An umbilical cut neatly from stories of the past,
Leads the eye slowly
To a root
Imbedded in the mind of wondrous possibility.
Follow its line
The river of desire as it flows downward.
Like a waterfall of passion
That flows down the curves of her back
Toward some place of remarkable destiny.
A man’s mind can wonder in that vision,
His heart betrothed to the one who calls his name.
Seek that thread,
Like your heart’s string pulling you in its effervescence
The pools of truth washing you clean of distant thought.
A man will know what he must do,
Even if the mind sets to other directions,
He can always return to the thread of his fantasy.
What can be gleamed,
From a single strand of hair?
Attached to love’s great promise everything can be known,
Everything can be seen if one just opens his eyes
He can know love if he just opens his heart
She can know the warmth if she just opens her mind
Before she tosses her head back, and gone is the single strand of hair.
© 2019 Tom Grasso All Rights Reserved