16/06/20

You confessed something.
I confessed everything.


Childhood dreams.
Childhood tales.


She was a tired crooner
He was an injured footballer.


He read her words
Before he coud hear her voice.


She knew his game
Before she could watch him run.


Who are you?
Who am I?
Who are they?


The smoke like a mist,
The percussion like thunder,
The stage like a funeral parlor.


Friends?
No I don’t do friends.


Date?
No I don’t date.


Marriage?
No I’m not ready.


She ran,
to return to her old songs.


He left,
to return for another chase.


Lustrous eyes
Hurried breaths,
Shivering fingers.


Love, is it love?


Not now, my love, not now.
Too late, my love, too late.
Too fast, my love, too fast.


Dainty,
Regal,,
Sensitive.


A wingless bird.


Noble,
Strong,
Gentle.


A voiceless lion. 


Lips almost meeting,
Fingertips almost lingering,
Hearts almost meeting.


Frozen in time.


Did you hear her latest hit?


Slow and mellow,
Warm and glowing,
Melancholic and elated.


Did you watch his last game?


Fast and fierce,
Calm and tough,
Hopeful and despairing.


No, they didn’t see it.


Only those who have eyes see.
Only those who have light see.
Only those who have hearts see.


Hearts that have tasted pure terror.
Hearts that have tasted pure bliss.
Hearts that have tasted pure love.


Like in those rusted songs,
Like in those dusty movies,
Like in these wilted poems.


That you grew up with.
That you grew out of.
That you are growing back to.


All for an unexpected love…


The kind of love that just cannot exist;


Unless, it is blessed,
Unless it is bestowed,
Unless it is decreed,


By the One who,


Choreographs the dance of the moon and sun.
Embroiders the colors of winter and summer.
Conducts the lament of the wind and the sea.


What do they know?
What can they know?
How can they know?


He collects teary eyed,
Words from her dreams.


She sings in utter abandon
Words he thinks. 


He carries like a crown,
Words she coons.


Midsummer sighs.
Midyear prayers.
Midlife rebirth,


Entwined,
Interwoven,
Interlocked,


Before they knew.
Before they hoped.
Before they existed.


Tell me,
Is this the dream we shared?


Tell me,
Is this the hope you carried?


Tell me,
Is it the fairytale He designed? 


You and I.
Me and you.
Us?

08/03/20

Can you hear her?
Can you feel her?
Can you hold her?

A soft chirp,
A gentle flutter,
A lithe heartbeat.

There’s a song in your heart
There’s a feather in your beard,
There’s a warmth in your palms,

But you cannot see it.

Your branches are high and wide,
Your foliage is battered but blooming,
Your trunk is caved but strong.

An oak,
A cypress,
An aspen,

That survived the Flood.
That survived the Plagues.
That survived the Furies.

Time and time again.

In a world full of coal,
In a world full of smoke,
In a world full of oil spills ,

You thrived.

You know of darkness and the return of the Light,
You know of loneliness and the return to the Presence,
You know of bitterness and the return Forgiveness,

… But ever so lonely.

High there,
Deep within,
Far away,

How cold you must feel,
How silent you must feel,
How tired you mus feel….

But even in this land,

The pale dawn must return,
The gentle breeze must return,
A hopeful spring must return.

Like in the ever expanding darkness,
Like in the ever exploding supernova,
Like in the ever silent galaxies,

There’s a distant glint.

It’s a speck,
Its a dust,
It’s a star.

You looked up to the night sky.
You searched for the crescent moon.
You found an unexpected gleam.

Something you carry with you even in the brightest sunshine.
Something you protect from the fiercest storm.
Something you hold on to even in the bitterest cold.

But you cannot grasp it yet.
But you cannot clasp it yet.
But you cannot wrap it yet.

In your arms.

Your heart yearns for that moment,
Your chest tremble for that embrace,
Your soul shivers for that treasure.

But she isn’t a queen,
decked in diamonds and pearls.

But she isn’t a saint,
decked with distance and perfection.

But she isn’t a prize,
decked with gold and jewels.

She is but a human.
She is but a woman.
She is but a wanderer… Just like you.

A poet, sometimes,
A lady, other times,
A bird, most of the time.

What about you?

Who are you?
A solid oak tree.

Who are you?
A timid sparrow.

Who are you?
A safe valley.

I wish you were a tree
I could rest on.

I wish you were a foliage
I could shelter under.

I wish you were a foret
I could lose myself into.

Instead,

You are a few sentences,
You are a few heartbeats,
You are a few clicks,

and a dream,
and a hope,
and a prayer,

That I have bestowed to God.

One day,
One night,
One magical moment,

My love,

I shall tell your everything.
I shall give you everything.
I shall offer you everything.

One day,

When the time has come.
When the decree has fallen,
When the waiting is fulfilled,

I shall be yours.
You shall be mine.

If God has ordained it.
As God has ordained it.
When God has ordained it.

Until then…

There’s a song in your heart,
There’s a feather in your beard,
There’s a warmth in your palms,

— A bird on your shoulder. 

20/09/19

And I come back to you,

Like the waves come back to the rocks,
Like the leaves return to the ground,
Like the wind howls again between the trees.

My heart resiles.
My soul mounds.
My eyes replenish..

Is it a habit?
Is it an addiction?
Is it true love?

What do I know ?

I talk to the whispering night
I talk to the snoring neighbor
I talk to the pernicious wind.

That always returns.

Without a word.
Without an embrace.
Without a confession.

Just a filtering cold.
Just a sinister whimper.
Just a chaotic tumble.

Is it foolish?
Is it loyal?
Is it romantic?

Some would laugh scornfully.
Some would turn away impatiently.
Other would run for the hills.

Like you did.

Always running.
Always fading.
Always crystalizing..

Never returning.

I could have a handful of goldenseals.
I could have a pocketful of bluebells.
I could have a life full of soft buttercups.

I could.
But I cannot.

Instead I turn my face to the blistering cold.
Instead I turn my heart to the carving howl.
Instead I turn my soul to the ever burning core.

Burning,
Turning
And bursting.

In total silence
In complete stillness.
In utter peacefulness.

What noise do stars make in deep space

When they collide?
When they collapse?
When they burst to life again ?

In tiny tiny
growing growing
burning burning

embers ?

The same bursting silence,
The same gentle bustle.
The same voiceless awe

That echoes in your words.
That mingles with your breath.
That cadences your heart.

soft soft like a hummingbird’s exhalation.
hushed hushed like the night after the tempest.
empty, empty like a breaking heart after a dream.

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I always return to you,
But you never do.