Poetry

Wishes in the Night – The Beloved (Audio)

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The night sounds rise and fall around me

As stars emerge from the deep black well

Fireflies dance on the edge of vision

As dusk gives way to the night

Coolness settles upon the land

Stillness settles upon my heart

Tiny pinpricks of light appear

Delicate, peeping through the black curtain

Now soft pearl glow cast across the silence

Each moment brings the detail into focus

So too my heart’s desire becomes clear

Defined against the backdrop of my soul’s quietude

My wish is for you

And my wish for you is me

That you might be filled with me as the emptiness of space

Is filled with glorious light

That I might be to you the peace

Which settles over the night calling nature to rest

A night with no bumps in the dark.

No fear of exposure

No longer watchful

Only rest and blissful surrender

And if I may not have this wish then my next would be

That you may see yourself through my eyes

Then you would not need my light to fill your night

You would know the power in your form, the elegance in your movement

You would know your beauty as a gift and light to this dark and troubled world

You are most desirable in all things

And from that place of confident rest your striving would cease

You would become a source of grace and hope

And would lift up all whom you touch

If I might be granted even my second wish

I would know that my life has had a meaning

For I have recognized the sublime among the ordinary

To have held such to my breast is to have lived

Poetry is Love – Missing Her – Audio Update

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Art – Matt Chambliss

Music by Epidemic Sound

Words lay still, insipid and bland on the heart

Intellect’s two dimensions churn out clever comparisons

That can pedestrianly pass for poetry

But it’s not

Word games at best

Mental masturbation absent the Lover

Carried out in secret compulsion to

Fill the emptiness, of the page

But there is no love there, no life

Nothing but ego and self gratification

I grow sick of myself without Her

Same tired themes, overused phrases fall flat

Filling empty spaces, with more

Seed, spilled, scattered, words wasted

Poetry is affection

Poetry is passion

Poetry is fervor’s intense desire

Poetry is hunger’s zealous devotion to it’s satisfaction

Consummation of flesh mind and spirit

Ego joyfully surrendered, broken asunder

As I is transcended and dances with We and Us and They

Poetry happens between the ticks of the clock, this and that, You and I

All else is mental masturbation

Poetry is alive

Poetry is Love

I miss Her when She’s gone

Sunflower

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Art – Matt Chambliss

Music –  “Sunflower” Paddy Sun

Sunflower

From the day of Her budding She has longed for the sun
Her being is drawn towards the light
The very core of Her aches for the life-giving warmth
In the night-time she hopes for a light to shine on Her
But all that shines is not the Sun
All that has warmth does not give life
So even though she may dance in the reflection and the distraction of the moment
She knows that it will pass
It will not beckon her to put down roots into the dark rich soil
She waits for the morning
She longs for Apollo that she might be made whole
Her face ever toward the sun, seeking the heat and life her Soul craves
Yet to see Her, to know Her is life-giving
The Sunflower is strength
A symbol of beauty and faith and life and vitality and intelligence
She already possesses that which she seeks, out There in the heavenly Sun
Orbiting Her eternally, yet never accessible
She does not understand that she is venerated like she does Apollo
She is longed for like the Sun
That there are those who turn and follow Her movements across their skies
Who mark their days by Her appearance and in Her leaving
Rest O Sunflower, put down your roots
Allow your blues, browns and golden facets to grace the green of your new growth
You are already everything you desire

A Thousand Miles Away – Audio Update

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Art – Matt Chambliss

Music – A Thousand Years (Piano/Cello Cover) – The Piano Guys

I dreamed that I was awake

Or perhaps I was awake yet slumbering

Consciousness in flux somewhere between the two

I know what is real, I know the difference

I can feel it

There is substance and passion and depth and sweet rest my reward

I can breathe there

But sometimes reality manifests itself in one and then the other as it wills

So who is to say what is dreaming and what is wakefulness

The Real is not tethered to the narrow realm of the senses

It gives allegiance to none, for there are many ways of knowing

How close is a thousand miles

It seemed as if I could have reached out and touched you

But you were a thousand miles away

What is the distance between this breath and my next

A step or two, feet, inches, seconds, the measurement is irrelevant

So close, yet thousand miles away

I felt you walk into my dream

I felt your presence before I turned, before I heard the voices

I sensed the singular form of you so the sight did not surprise me

Because I can sense you from a thousand miles away

How is it that I can inhale the fragrance of you, hear your voice in my dreams

I felt your glance on my back like a touch reaching out, a kiss on my neck

But there was a gulf between that would not be bridged, a guardian watchful

Polite, familiar chit chat for a second of a second

I could not find your eyes

So close yet a thousand miles away

I felt you leaving and I turned to watch you go

My observation hidden behind the tinted veil

I watched you walk into another dream that was a thousand miles away

Then, at the last instant, the final frantic moment you turned

I saw your eyes seeking me, trying to pierce the darkened glass

I recognized and reached out from the shadows

I was close, but hidden, and a thousand miles away

So, I will write to remember, I will write to say

What it’s like to feel your warmth

From a thousand miles away