Dear Love,

You are different than any I’ve ever met.
Why is it when I am near you, everything feels alright?
Why do you hurt so deep when you are unbearable?
Why are you unpredictable?
Why do I find you in the silliest of places?
You cause accidents which aren’t meant to happen, and yet they are.
Why do you bring the height of joy, yet the depths agony all in The Moment?
How can you keep me grounded in reality, yet soaring high in the tallest cloud?
Why does your blade cut the deepest?
Is it because you are The Protector and The Slayer?
Are you as gentle as you seem?
No.
A Protector; a Slayer; Tormentor; Companion.
How can you be all this and be so simple, though simple you are not?
Your Map of Lines and Triangles only set to confuse and hinder.

Why do you speak in two voices from head to heart and heart to head?
Do you seek to mislead?
Do you seek to reveal?
You are so simple, yet infinitely complex.
You can’t be explained with less than a sentence, but easily described within your own name.
You make my chest swell, and set my heart free!
Your fantasies are hardly reality, yet remain real to me.
How can you cause one Soul to care for Another so much they forget themselves?
But how can you drive others to mistake and Insanity?
It is not your nature to make a fool of mankind?
You defy the voice of reason, and speak volumes of far-fetching dreams!
Why must you confuse?
Why are you so frightening in your pure and true form?
Why do you cause grown men to shrink from your arms, though warm and beautiful they be?
How can you be so fleeting, but last for Eternity?
How do you break but mend hearts all in one breath?

Love, you elude me.
You hurt me, but Heal me.
You cloud Sight, but clear Sight.
Why can’t you be simple, and easy to understand?
You bring me happiness beyond my being, and slicing agony I cannot bear.
You give me wings to fly, a voice to sing, and tears to cry,
but you create confusion I wish to dispel.

Oh dearest Love, will you ever give me rest?

January 29, 2011

A Poem I Could Not Title

The trees bent double laughing,
their breath catching in their chests
in a low moan
Their mirth shakes their frames
and happy tears caress their coverings
They dance and sing
the picture of joy
It is they who make the most
in life, allowing cares to drain with rain

The elders look on,
wrinkled and turning mossy grey.
Long beards and stooping limbs
creak their wisdom to those that listen
Slowly swaying and chanting their song,
They whisper tales of epics old
wizen’d old wizards with knowledge untold
Their stories echo in their rutted faces
They reach high in praise of their Creator,
the picture of humble piety

I walk through and past them,
divining all they say.
I listen to their happy laughter
and ponder the wisdom they share
Any others who wander here listen
to pressing silence
They cannot hear the cacophony,
a euphony meant only for me.

May 12, 2009

Finding Happiness

Happiness can be like

finding a needle in a haystack.

It is a daunting task, but

when at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

When searching for happiness it is important not to

count your chickens before they hatch.

It's possible that people may scoff at you, so remember

their bark is worse than their bite,

And they'll soon realize that

when in Rome,to do as the Romans do.

The rat race soon begins, and

he who hesitates is lost.

But once it's realized happiness cannot be found alone, you

divide and conquer

because

there is strength in numbers.

But beware of

a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Because when you think you find happiness,

a bad penny always turns up.

Quickly discard it, for

some things are not what they seem.

By the end, everyone looses hope.

Oh ye of little faith,

never say die.

Because

there is always a silver lining.

When it seems like there is no hope of finding it, we discover

after a storm comes a calm,

And Happiness can be found

as plain as the nose on your face.

May 11, 2009

The Great Lover

These I have loved:
Luminescent plants reveling in the rain, glowing happy green;
The splashy-smeared sunrise oozing across the sky; birdsong;
Silky ivory brushing beneath my outstretched fingers; music melodious;
The rough and round feel of the pages as they slip, flip and flee;
Lilting and rotund tones of intonation over silver tongues; comfort;
The feathery caress; the tang of rain; the salty sting of victory;
Familiarity of places I know best, the sweet and savory sensational smells;
The snuggling wrap of a blanket; the snow’s gentle kiss;
Frozen time when the Earth holds its breath; a blue loon;
Capering colors whirling; a musty book whispering my name;
The lure of exquisite cuisine; hugs;
The fiery exhilaration of speed and finesse coursing through veins;
The streamline whisk of wind through my hair; the living smell of nature;
Free-flowing freedom buoying me higher;
The roaring magnificence and strength of falling water;
Vivacious eyes and bright lightened features; belly-clenching laughter;
Good times with friends; eternal peace.
All these have been my loves.

Modeled after a poem by Rupert Brooke
 4-15-09

Clouds

Storm clouds clog thinking and reason, crippling as sense of up and down
Who is who, where is where.
Black and grey, yellow and blue, pink or red, they all swirl.
Those who get caught, can ne'er wrest free alone.
And those not caught, beware, for it is fruitless to avoid the inevitable.
To go around is to be unfeeling, uncaring, and dead.
Only one can help guide and disperse the storm, and He is there.
Be not afraid of the storms, they are ephemural.
With one word they can be gone.
It's all a test, a test of will, endurance, and faith.

Some clouds take forms, making their presence blatantly known.
Raven, Snake, Alligator, Pirhana;
All leads one thing to become another,
All blackened and undesireable.
Those who balk from these only become consumed, deeper and deeper
To something binding and scarring, destructive and deadened.
There is only one answer:
Call on He that is bigger, stronger, more powerful, all knowing.

Once invoked, no harm befalls.
For protection of the mightiest
Causes great enemies to falter.
The vortex ends, destroyed by light.
The worst is over and the warm, white clouds decend upon the troubled
Soothing the batterings and wounds of any battle.
The red, the pink, the blue, the black, the grey, the yellow
All are scattered, leaving only pearly colors of Him that Saves.
Thanks to Him, no need to fear
and with Him there, no foe can leer.

March 3, 2009