The birds are out today
singing to the sun
and darting on the wind.
I can see the leaves dance,
though I cannot hear the
song of the wind…
It must be a gentle song –
a love song – whispered
instead of sung…
The softest of kisses
A lover’s carress.
I don’t know what the day
will bring… but for now..
Peace.
The light of January
caresses my skin
warming me –
despite the bite
of the wind…
There is a hope in my heart
I hardly know how to navigate.
A loss I feel
but do not kneel to…
I will not be cowed
by grief –
will not bow to it…
I will, instead,
hold fast to the hope
brought by January sunlight…
a newness in the day
unshackled by old regrets…
untainted by this
old grief.
Alive.
Watching the rain
Stream past the balcony
Dripping from
Lampposts
Below me…
I feel the absence
Of you
And I embrace
This peace..
No slamming doors
Or breaking dishes…
No raised voices
Or near *constant* weight
Of disappointment
…never enough…
…always too much…
I feel another wound
Stitched closed
By glimmering
Threads of rain
Under a cold
Gray sky
Another layer of fear
Washed away in the storm.
I sat tonight
Reading Frost
By the dim light
The taste of cranberry
Across my tongue
As I sipped my drink.
The cold November wind
Biting my neck and
Blowing my hair
In my face.
The soaring voice
Of a violin in my ears…
In this moment…
Content…
To let my spirit
Soar and plummet
With the notes,
Sad when the music fades…
Buoyed again
When mesmerized by
The dance of the trees…
The wind their
Loving partner.
For one so at home in the dark,
I often awake to find myself tormented…
plagued, harried
Utterly broken and
so. very. afraid.
Why is it so easy to breathe
At night, sitting alone in the dark
And in the early morning hours
Every breath is a
Ragged gasp…
Fighting for air…?
Why, when I should feel uneasy
Sitting in the night air
Listening to the wind
And the sounds from the city
Do I feel fearless?
Peaceful?
Yet in the breaking daylight
Peace gives way to
Turmoil…and
So much pain…
Every dark thought
Is a blade across my heart
Every shortcoming
A curse on my soul
And every tear shed
Feels like a shameful thing
Crying alone over coffee
Hating myself with a loathing
Beyond anything i have ever felt
For anyone else.
I tried to read
The greats tonight
Leonard, Angelou,
Poe, Frost…
But it is my own voice
Too loud in my ear
That sets me
Quivering –
With loss, pain,
With fear remembered
And love…lost…
I tried to smile
Around this ache in my chest,
but each one
Shattered
Hurting my face.
The clouds are moving
Too fast tonight
Ghosts against
A black sky…
And the breeze
Doesn’t invite
Doesn’t caress…
Instead… alienates.
There is a wrongness
And I feel
Cornered
Not romanced –
Caged…silenced…
Grief-choked.
No song tonight
On the symphony
Of wind
Notes all soured
By this aching
…this pain…
This ground under
Boot-heel feeling
…abandoned…
Alone in the dark.
Languid, half asleep, in morning hours
I hear your voice…
Half-finished conversations
rushed conclusions
hasty goodbyes…
And I turn over …
again, searching for sleep –
wondering where dreams begin
only to end again… and why.
Thoughts blow like November winds
through my mind
prickling my skin
and bidding me dig deeper
into the covers to seek
my comfort there…
to find surcease from the black
loneliness that sometimes
threatens in the early morning hours
absent your voice…
I am treading water here..
riding the black waves of fear
and despair, trying
not to drown, but
to rise up on that current
and find my hope
my center
my self
and SWIM…
One day I will
hear a noise in the
dark and will not fear…
will not stop
*breathing*
to listen for
his footsteps…
but will, instead
pause, to hear
your voice calm me…
and listen for your lullaby..
my November wind…
whistling past the window…
lulling me to sleep…
November wind,
you are my lover
teasing forth pink buds
and prickling my skin
with your cool caress…
Wringing from my lips
sighs of satisfaction
etched with
an aching longing.
Your invisible fingers
dance along my neck
and your soughing sigh
thrills me…
your voice my
private symphony…
I find myself
languid in your
cool embrace…. seduced,
aching and satisfied.
So painfully sweet
Was that first stretching
That deep touch
That ‘Being known’
Painful….for it being
Only
Sweet for it being
First
I ache now
In the absence of you
Knowing
The only
Will haunt me
Knowing
The first
Will be last
Exquisite was that
First drink
So deep
So thorough
Ecstasy
Yet…
So painful, the removal
Of you from me
First…
And last…
So passionate, the
Rough kneading, needing
Touch…
Longing embodied…
Yet so painful…
The cold vacuum
Left by your warmth
First…
And last…
Last dance
Last glance
Last lingering touch
Last wavering goodbye
Hands lingering
On breast
Back
Hips
Lips
….last…
captivatingbitter 