The Lesson~ letting go

this lesson far from being understood

something unleashed

wildly untamed

a force let loose

a feeling savage

raw, unnamed awake…

 

starting tightly bound

slipping slowly

floating lightly

just above the room

a soft exchange

words spent like time

passing into realms

where actions speak

slowly being taken

stretched and filled deep

pushed until the edges

cease to exist

caught in the wave

of the flowing back and forth

the axis of my balance

starts to spin

suddenly a shift, a switch

changing places

suddenly something

creeping over me

I move upon you

feeling like I own you

this need, desire

driving me beyond control

leading me from a depth

that has never been touched

emotion unleashed

that has always been restrained

letting go and allowing

all thought to leave my mind

opening to the body

feeling the soul

action becomes the measure

the tangible gauge

the visible expression

of what is felt

given name to things

that have never been expressed

the need to be heard

suddenly completely fulfilled

 

 

 

the lesson

there it is

I understand

what is learned

in the act

of letting go

~for my muse~

She Who Makes Me

she makes me feel like a newborn

come to be on this very day

opening eyes that have never seen

this life laid open at my feet

she has taken me to task

with intricate and precise plans

sending me on scavenger hunts

my list of treasures in hand

she carves out time and makes it stop

while she paints the walls of my room

covering them with beautiful imagery

that she wants only me to see

she is selfless I have said this before

but day after day she proves

that by never saying the words

she has shown me what she feels

she plays the role of teacher

with the patience of a saint

sometimes rote repetition

is the only way I can learn

I fight her at times, just like a child

kicking and stomping my feet

when I don’t get what I want

I have tried to run away

she leaves me to my pouting

but only long enough…

then like a wind coming through the trees

she announces her presence again

again with patience, and care

yet never doubt the strength

she has shown me that she will not give in

that I cannot push her away

she makes me want to be present

to be solidly, soberly aware

open to feeling pleasure

even when it comes with pain

she shows me the power of both

and how one compliments the next

she has taught me not to fight the pain

in surrender it slips away

she has taken me to another door

opened something deeper still

I have just awoken this morning

and the world looks different today

something in the silence is sweeter

the color of morning takes me in

for one who has always lived in the dark

this is more than simple change

she makes me feel like a woman

in ways that I never have

in physical form, my body

learning to feel alive

she tends to every part of me

places once left for dead

ignored and neglected

she revels in the wealth of their worth

I feel like a treasure in her eyes

I move toward the touch of her hand

overwhelmed in the most wondrous of ways

asked and allowed, to feel~

 

 

~for my muse~

 

Mourning Rhyme

I try to steer away from rhyme when I write, in fact I will intentionally throw a word into a line and throw off the rhythm just to avoid it. I write with a very definite rhythm though, a pace, almost musical and I can't deny that. So this morning, while mourning, I just let all the rhymes do their thing and they got busy for this one.

I know you wish for me to disappear

but I am still here

stained in the ink

of that tiny wink

in the time that it took

and the single exhale of the last look

it was destined somehow to be

that you and me

would simply pass on the way

be tossed away

on the side of some dusty road

you have been lightened of this load

but I still carry with me

in a knapsack so no one sees

the words that you said

so many times as I bled

the sound of your voice

I cannot drown out the noise

it creeps up my spine

and I am hopelessly entwined

in a memory of nothing

or was it something

you would only commit to no

but those words still echo

the truth that rang out

in those 12 hours of doubt

when you said is it real?

when you said, I feel

but gone and distant

those words now haunt

the site of the wound stings

and the pain that it consistently brings

the damage done to my heart

the resulting works of art

the cost of bearing it all

when the result is just to fall

at the feet of mistakes made

in the eye of the devil jade

the jealous contempt of loss

and the inability to toss

this all into the raging sea

it has simply become a part of me~

Lurking

there is something quietly crawling

its way up the back of my neck.

something clawing and scratching at me

something I cannot see.

it’s back there, though I can feel it

some demon~like shadowed thing.

I’m not sure if I am afraid of it yet

it’s not clear enough to name.

it quietly walks around

tapping on parts of my soul.

trying to find a way in

an opening somewhere in me.

there aren’t many places left in me

where anyone can get in.

especially not some entity

who does not have a name.

there was a time not long ago

where I left the doors open wide.

any and all were welcome

to come and stay any length of time.

the day I came home to an empty house

the walls and cupboards stripped bare.

was the day the door closed tightly

and the locks and chains put in place.

so now there is something following me

sitting in corners in wait.

some thing, some feeling I cannot describe

anticipating what?

those doors are not flying open again

the shutters have locks on them too.

there are keys but they are hard to find

and that search will take a long time.

I know where they are but I’ll never tell

those questions are all up to you.

that being that sits on my shoulder

has never said a word.