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~

 

Seeking Summer's Reprieve

Virginia Beach

 

 

 

the air is thick, heavy

and I can barely stand the weight of it.

it covers me like a cloak

like a fabric that has woven itself into me.

this east coast shore holds no relief

nothing seems to ease the pressure.

as evening falls and I walk to the sea

I beg her to cool my skin.

she offers me tiny waves, a weak current

and a sky full of dusky grey.

I walk to the water’s edge

naked feet yearning for the lick of a cooling wave.

a trickle, laps up onto the sand

and slowly dribbles away.

the pressure begins to build again

as thunder claps and bangs.

loud crashes and menacing booms

and a threatening lightning strike.

breathlessly I await

the imminent roaring downpour.

I look to the sky, searching,

for the break that will open wide.

I want to raise my hands and arms

as the flood pours down and quenches this ache in me.

the first sprinkles hit like kisses on my skin

anticipation peaks at the touch.

then suddenly, the clouds move, the sun winks

and the heat is upon me again.

 

straight to the airport I go from here

I am heading west.

to cool breezes and afternoon strolls

and not a hint of humid air.

for waves that crash with intention

of covering you in their wake.

for sand and sea and sky and stone

and a soothing like nothing else.

 

 

 

Laguna Beach, Ca