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Her Song He Sings

There was a man,
He loved a woman,
Who was nowhere near his touch.
So he slept alone,
And wrote her songs,
He loved her soul that much.

He’d walk along,
And hum her tune,
A lone figure against the Sun,
He knew one prayer,
That she would come,
He knew she was the one.

He’d touch his scars,
And mend his wounds,
Swim strong against the tide,
He’d kiss her lips,
In fancy dreams,
And snuggle by her side.

For things that come,
Are things that go,
But truth remains the same.
The Sun may rise,
And the Sun may set,
Eternity resides within a frame.

Forever known,
Yet forgotten still,
Love blossoms where it can.
To live so strong,
To live so free,
Few can understand.

He’ll hold his heart,
He’ll bite his lips,
And wait to tell her things,
He’ll walk alone,
And when he does,
It will be her song he sings.


Mostly Grateful

There are moments when I wish you were within reach…tempting me to hold you…causing my restraint.
Imagine swimming against the tide, searching for some jetsam on which to rest, wondering if my desire is the flotsam that clogs this path.
Imagine straining against the fiercest wind, shielding life and limb from the debris while summoning the strength to continue on.
That is me, searching for you. That is me, mostly grateful for knowing who you are, mostly grateful for knowing you exist. Despite the disappointment in your absence, I feel you there when I least expect it. Despite the realization that you may not know the power of this truth, I know there is a space within you that feels it too.
Such is the way things are in a Universe that spans depths few of us have seen. You remain there as I am planted here. Connected are we who know the greatest love of all, who feel the flow between us regardless of the length of the stream. Blessed are we who sail beyond our horizons toward unfamiliar shores, some of which demand our aloneness, others who bring us closer to our home.
“Trust,” I remind myself, “in this process of living. It knows where you must go. Just unfurl your sails and head where the winds will take you.”
So, I will. Perhaps we shall find our shoreline one day, perhaps we will put our feet in the same sand. Maybe we’ll climb a mountain and rest on the same boulder, drink from the same spring, and seek shade under the same tree.
I will be waiting.

There Are Many Mysteries

Sit across the way with me, and hear this truth.

There are many things for which I have no answers. How I got here, across from you, in this moment in time. How I became so blessed to see your smile as my heart melts all over me. How I get to hear your laugh echo in the silence of the dark. How I knew you before I saw you, and why our wide and winding paths have brought us to this wonderful field.

There are many mysteries throughout our lives. Those unexplainable flowers standing indignantly in the concrete. Those wonderful blades of soft grass found suddenly on rocky soil at the very time we need to rest. Those springs of clear water appearing suddenly in a sheer rock’s face in the moment we thirst the most. You. Me. Here. Now.

Universes born within the promise of possibility, we are. Colliding stars that give rise to the enormous promise of answered dreams, we remain. There are no answers as to what brought the Sun and Earth together, just the results etched in the stone of one potential reality.  There is you, and there is me, both smiling at each other as we hold the reins of something we cannot control, the possibility of diving deep into the certain unknown without a lifeline to the surface.

There are many questions that we can’t answer, but there are many answers that have been laid out before us. I have vivid memories walking against to tornadic wind, my skin pierced by tiny shards of ice, those wounds left stinging by the pelting drops of rain. I remember the silence of the pain, the lonely sobs of a heart being challenged, the testament of a scream in the night as all I knew was being destroyed by petulant winds.

What I know is the sunshine when I see it, and lovely pastures unlittered by the debris of my mind. I value the safety of walking barefoot in the fields where no nail can pierce my skin, where no splintered shard of wood can leave me bleeding in the grass. What I know is the feeling of your voice, the essence of your laugh, the beauty in a face I’d love to see each and every one of my remaining days. While the why may be a mystery, the truth remains nothing of the sort.

A man who has taken his lashes to experience his freedom values both the lash and the freedom. A man who has the scars of battles wages holds firm to the peace he has attained. A man who has lost everything stands firm in the fields where all he is have been planted. The birth of that field remains a mystery, but the truth of where he stands is nothing of the sort.

I remain the man, bare naked and vulnerable in front of you, demanding nothing but stating the simple truths for which he lives; knowing completely the promise of the gift he sees in your eyes. A man like that cannot take that promise for granted, for simple is he who wants to own nothing but the truth. The winds have brought this ship to your shore for a purpose that will, one day, cease to be a mystery.

Then, you may see the Universe extended you a hand, and it may look just like mine. The Universe offered you support, and it took form as my waiting arms. The Universe offered you the love you were seeking, and it looked just like me.

Know this truth, that eternal spring of nourishment which we both have sought, that binds us here and now to the ripples we shall send. Know the smiles of an old man to the love of his life and an embrace of a once empty cup to the water it was made to hold. Know the certainty and safety of a warrior who has found a home within your heart, who does not want to leave, but would rather build a village where you stand.

And there, the mystery ends and the greatest story ever told remains. That is, but once, where the mist takes shape and the mystery comes alive.

And there, it all makes sense even to the sanest ones we know.


It’s Time

From what I see

The secrets keep

It’s time to put 

My dreams to sleep. 


Pressing on

Another day

It’s time to put

Those thoughts away.

A silent prayer

If you’ll excuse 

It’s time to leave

My sultry muse. 

Sweet dreams I say

Tomorrow then?

Yet I’m never sure 

Of how or when. 

So until I meet

The sky above

It’s time to say

Goodnight, my love.