fleeting whispers of ancient songs
floating within the vastness
of night
what is starlight without darkness,
but a lost song within a lagging
light
and what of this heart? sagging
upon the altar of love, lingering,
awaiting sacrifice
as sure as stars are not seen
but within the cradle of moon’s
sweet glow
i too, am lost to the heavens, without
golden’s soft flow
oh, to still this wretched heart, and give
my soul the peace it
would die for
as i linger here, waiting no more,
for your love to be returned to me
Tag: dreaming
frustration
This heart, too open to be
Closed and too aching
To be heard
Lies prostrate among the flowers
Of my life, weeping
For change…
Soundless, countless waves of
Frustration wash over in
Gray and red and blue
Longing for that inexorable
Something that will enliven
And brighten
And free this heart to fly
Alas, imprisoned within my own
Design
I am but autumn flowers fading
Amidst the coming winter
longing from long ago
this longing is a fire in my
chest; beating, flowing, fiery
heat that will not cool
oh, why do you play me so?
my music… but bits of your soul…
as your fingers silently tune my
strings until my voice is a low moan
asking for more
you are my savior and my warden
and this heart is burning
and down low, within these loins,
the strings of love tenderly vibrate
as eternal echos of your touch
replace reality with
slow deliberate movements
sounding through time and space…
how i feel you now, upon my heart
wickedly licking the wounds your absence
left there long ago
Foothills of eternity
Oh, fragile heart
Yearning
Stretching towards
A completion
An annihilation
Of self into that which
Provides for more..
And though the darkness
Yet dwells within the corners
Of memories rooted
And left forgotten
To rotten and
Twist into folds of time,
The light of truth is a sword
That cuts down and out
All that no longer serves..
So grasping at the edge
Of a metal cliff
This heart reaches to
Combine the disparities
Into a bridge
That may grow wildflowers
Across the foothills of
Eternity
Train Whistles
The lack in me is but a distant
Echo of train whistles
Always promising to arrive
At my empty station to let
Off the passengers that might fill
My soul with something more
Than nothing
And yet my twisted fingers
That hold these wasted tickets
To nowhere grip my heart with
Longing for that which
Only lies singing in the distance
For nothing stops at a dead station
But more nothing
Silent desire
The slow run of summer has almost
Reached a finish
The heat is but a last stand
For impending cool…
Birds have abandoned nests
For a lack of need,
As squirrels scurry to find acorns
To chew….
And my heart; once a fiery ball
Of remembered pain
Is now changed by forgiveness
Into a colder harder better protected
Me
Will you still follow after a cooler flame?
Or leave this game of chance to a
Higher power?
My heart may be blue, but my head
Is aflame with silent desire
another dream
You came to me in dream
To tell me how sorry you were
For that thing that you did-
And you tried to hold me
And tell me you loved me
In spite of it all
You felt ashamed and wanted
Forgiveness
But I kept turning away
Unable to let go
Drawn back to you; as you said
You loved me so
I was confused until I awoke
And thought that maybe you had
And your riddled mind thought
You were showing it
love of play
She was but a wise old fool
Housed inside a pocket of youth…
Already knowing what was going to happen,
Because she’d been there before
And knew the game-
And though the outcome would mean
Certainty-
She went along the adventure anyway
For the love of play
A dream
The race against what
Followed me was strong-
I was running through time
To avoid being captured;
Into bedrooms of folks I didn’t
know, and cars I stole that
Weren’t mine
I was running to avoid a darkness
That followed my soul
And demons that tracked me
Through hell’s gates,
And emotion’s swell-
And then I awoke…
and realized that which looked
To find my soul- was already inside
This heart of mine- and I was running
From myself
red dawn
the red dawn spreads
her fingers through the
sky with painful intention…
all that was, is lost
now to the fire that
lingers in her burning heart-
and while morning may
seem like fresh starts,
to dawn, the day is yet
made with the pain of
desires, un-flourished,
and silenced
only evidenced by the streaks
of red and yellow and pink that
paint her sky so solemnly
the SIBYL'S SONG 