There’s a weeping of my soul-
rain showers that can’t be stopped
and while my spirit mourns,
my heart lies slowly dying…
I sit beside myself, outside myself,
an onlooker of the carnage
callously executed by my mind…
And I wonder why I am so alone,
so far from where I long to go,
afraid to trust, lost to the cold…
memories echo
like the bitter wind
that blows through the empty halls
of my longing heart
looking through the shattered lens
of a broken and fallen heart
i see prisms of color
where the light enters in
and i wonder at the joy rainbows engender…
even when sadness seems to have no end
There are lights on the porch
across the street-
I can see them glowing outside my window,
softly,
reminding me of lightening bugs
I used to try to catch
as they flashed through
childhood summer evenings
Oh the cruelty of youth!
bottling up such wondrous bugs
so that they might lighten up
the darkened places within my soul-
Alas, nothing of that light remains
as I stare nostalgically
down and across the road
at electric lights that softly glow
Oh that I dream of you
as soft wind flows
over mountainsides in early morning-
Your embrace, a ribbon of light
through my valleys…
Rivers flow with your words of love
that snake slowly down my body;
And as you lie here,
across my grassy plains,
I become one with you dreamily-
Your Softly rolling kisses blow through time
and I linger with your lips close to mine-
My Sweet lover of land and sky
Thinking to close my eyes-
I’m so tired…
but my mind won’t fade;
Desperate to let it all
slowly melt from space,
yet here I linger
on the outskirts of time
Heavy thoughts carried by
weary arms make for a worn
and washed out soul…
alas, it’s night again, so here
I go… venturing into
thoughts, better left
locked away
This window fan, in the darkness,
sings a sweet melody
of white noise to me tonight….
As cars fly by outside,
splashing the new fallen puddles of rain
collected from the storm that just passed,
I think of how cleansing the lightening was
to the heavy, dull air…
Wondering now, perhaps, when my own
storm might come to free me from the heaviness of my own heart.
You buried your face in my hair
and told me it smelled of leather;
your hands searched my fingers
and the lines of my waist
holding on as if this one time
was the last time
you would touch me…
and I decided to let you in
because the fire in your heart
burned an imprint of your energy
upon my soul
morning glory vines
fed by an outcry of emotional discontent
climb, wind and stretch
to find the light that lingers within
the power of my own intuition..
and its this longing for clarity
that allows emotions to quietly strangle
that which they strive to emulate
oh! that i could allow feelings a safe
place to wind towards the light
that would not sacrifice the voice
within me that might lead me towards
a greater fate….
the SIBYL'S SONG 