it always seems to rain
when i ready my heart
to open-
such pain that pours from
the sky
leveling my mind
washing away all thought
but that which lingers now
of memory….
and where am i?
waiting for the heavens to clear
and the flood to drain
from the surface of my soul;
for i am nothing if not
consistent in this drowning
from my own sorrow
Tag: art
golden dawn
awoken is this tired heart,
by morning’s light and song-
choraliers of hope upon
branches singing
of love’s sweet golden dawn…
oh songbirds of my heart,
keep ringing,
until this old soul sings along!
as sunshine flows,
my heart is brimming,
with memories of melodies,
lost to time and gone…
swim away
incomplete and flush with pain
the darkness in which
my feet toil and hands toil
creates waves of confusion
crashing inside a mind that
will not submit
and though i try to focus
this ball of energy, this life force,
that creates what I see and
what I know
i’m lost to the flame of insecurity
and unknown
there’s no quiet within my soul
with which to see the puzzle pieces
that comprise me
so falling beneath these moon swept
breakers of emotion
i suffer still, at the hands of a heart
too afraid to swim away
graveyard of memory
unopened doorways
harboring darkness and fear
outstretch whispers
calling to me-
it’s a graveyard of memory
that lingers within the deepest
corners of my hidden thought
binding me with secrets
untold and wistfully forgotten…
though the night weighs heavily
upon my soul
i hate more than i accept
and will not open that threshold
for fear of falling into the darkness
i lock inside there-
there’s no hope for letting go
and no resolve when i cannot
even acknowledge the lies
that so linger quietly within my heart…
this void
this broken receiver
dangling upon the edges of my heart
delivers a cold silence
to my longing soul-
connection’s gone dead
leaving only emptiness…
and though awakened my eyes
might see, they are blinded
by the nothing that lingers
upon this quiet line of
surviving
oh how i wish for electricity
to awaken my heart
with a bolt of divine energy
for the nothing that dwells now
within my own darkness
is a void that imprisons all passion
and desire
sweet molasses
low level noise
binds my ears and blocks
the flow of words
to my mind-
spinning and locked,
i remain immovable
and barren of thought…
so desirous of warmth
i sit outside in hopes
sunlight might shine through
the molasses of my heart
and get this tired soul
singing again
the lost interface
lost inside a bermuda triangle
of emotion-
unable to make out where
my heart has hidden…
unsure of where my feet
are stepping…
still though, i keep looking
above the clouds- perchance
to catch a view from where
i’ve come-
possibly to see how
i might return home…
misty confusion lines my eyes
with a sweet haze
captivating me with tales of great
love and endurance
oh to have wings to fly from this
prison of my own making
and into the vast blue of
destiny
i would climb upon the shoulders of
my fate and swell into the lost
interface of my heart
and head
truth within
these pieces of my heart fall
onto a puzzle board-
sorted by color and shape;
so as to be fit together
as my will allows…
digested upon visions
growing larger and more distinct
fill out my mind’s eye-
perhaps providing clarity
to pictures and sound…
lo that i am a somewhat tortured
soul
i would place these thoughts of myself
upon an altar of understanding
and allow what lingers as divine
within me to change what i know
to be
into what i see as truth within
your eyes
your eyes aren’t the same color
since I came home…
the blue that once shone like
ocean’s tide
is now softened into a
different kind of hue-
it’s as if the sky swallowed up your
sight and replaced it with deep
and indefatigable darkness…
when they deign to meet mine,
all I see is anger and pain-
when you look away i can see
more than you desire-
and less of the love they held for me
coldness
this space that lives behind
the blue of your eyes
pauses this beating heart….
for within the folds
of silence lies darkness
that will not break
or bend…
coldness runs deep
within the quiet between us
as chills prick my skin
and cool my soul’s core
and I wonder when the sun might
shine again
the SIBYL'S SONG 