I Will Wait

I WILL WAIT

I Will Wait
The days without you aren’t the same.
Quiet echos louder without your music
My voice doesn’t ring the same tone
And the light sits lower on the walls.
How do I guide you home?
My words haven’t worked
And my lips fall off track.
I want your real love.
Waiting has never been my strong suit
But your skin.
The spot right alongside your hip
My fingers were there
And I heard your deep moan into my neck.
I wriggle and re-position my hips,
As I remember your pulse underneath me,
Nearly inside me
As your fingers explored the source of my warmth.
But why only once?
When my ears hear the blood in my heart
I know it’s you in my veins.
My impatient body is selfish
But I don’t blame my primal desire
You are
Just too great.
So I will sit,
I will walk
I will eat
I will sleep.
And something will bring you to me.
Some word, some song, some fairy tale
Will remind you and guide you
And I will be ready.
With all my human and inhuman thirsts.
With all my readiness to love you.
But today just isn’t the same, without you.

The Gift

THE GIFT
The Gift
She unfolds as she sees fit.
No need for expectations
Or timelines
Impatience or needs.
All your needs are met.
She sees to them as a gift-giver.
She gives the gift of life,
The gift of joy,
The gift of awakening,
And the gift of love.
It’s not patience you are lacking
It’s trust.
Trust her.
Her divine selflessness,
Her ability to know you
And your deeper dreams,
The ones you haven’t told
The ones you keep close.
Trust she hears you and
Trust she cares enough.
Lower your shoulders
Release your jaw
And feel her comforting pulse.
That beating in your chest
It’s her knocking at your door.
She’s ready to gift you.
She’s been waiting for you to answer
And where have you been?
Go to her
There is no fear here.
She may have pain,
She may share agony
But beneath that Pandora’s box
There lies what you seek.
What you’ve always been seeking.
Freedom.
That soul-shaking connection
A love that vibrates inner knowing
And multidimensional, unconditional, unrestrained, limitless and great
love.
Take off your clothes
Walk to her naked
Open the door, open your light
And receive her.
She is gifting you now.

Press Play

PRESS PLAY

Press Play
You’re a slideshow.
A breathing VHS
That flickers and flits through still images
Until I see you clearly.
The time you said you were home
Red hues painted on your face
Avocado-stained fingers
Sitting cross-legged on my rug.
The movie skips back,
Further yet,
Standing in a field, dowsed in moonlight
So close.
Mist leaving a dewy cold on my neck
And further back it rewinds
To that time
When I handed you a poem
Nestled in our very own sandcastle.
Rapidly skipping with quick glimpses
Of little glances
In a car at 1am.
Simple touches after nightmares
On a couch at 3am
And a handshake that turned into…
Hearts beating so loud it startles the trees,
And visions of making love
And you kissing me.
Please, press play.
I tell myself to stop rewinding
But it fast forwards instead
A garden with a toddler playing
A kindhearted mother and a hospital bed
And nose nuzzles with a little baby girl.
I hear her name.
The frame
Regains integrity
With clarity
I see you.
We will have love like no other,
We will play in pillow forts
And songs and words, poems and paintings
Will fill the walls
And the halls
And it all
Smells of sunshine.
I watch this every day.
Feeling a hand on my neck
Another wrapped around my waist
I close my eyes and
Dissolve into my favorite place.
Only for a minute.
Only for today.
Just knowing this exists is enough.
It’s enough, if it needs to be.
But if you want to watch this movie with me,
If you share in this daydream
Sit, shake my hand
Press play and let’s see.

Moon Poem

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Moon Poem
I lit a candle and even that was too bright.
I tried to sleep, and wanted to write, but
Tonight,
It’s meant to be dark.
The only illumination-
Your lighthouse glow.
A sea of crumpled, doodled paper,
Envelop the lost sailor,
Tea getting cold
And the embers of a last lit candle wick
Begin to succumb to the night wave.
That breaking evening,
And the striking beauty of her ascent.
I am reminded to rise,
Declarations of epiphany
But more specifically,
I hear incomprehensible silence.
And that’s the point.

Craving Connection

CHINESE NEW YEAR

Craving Connection
The nameless old man walked slowly down the street.
Purposefully he placed each foot
Like a gentle kiss on the Earth beneath him.
Walking towards her
A beacon, on the sun-drenched stoop.
Her golden, red hair and head in prayer,
Quietly he approached her.
Not to break either meditative concentrations
But with thought, he asked,
“Why are you so sad, little girl?”
The sleepwalking sweetheart only raised her head.
Like a buttercup humbly accepting the first amber glow of day.
Her arm extended like a morning stretch
Moving through water,
Breath low in her belly.
She simply touched his arm in connected relief.
Without breaking any code of silence,
He heard her unspoken words.
His body a bristlecone pine,
A living witness to more than a million sunrises and sunsets.
The ground became a symphony of economy
And her, the conductor.
Stillness lowered the gravity of the air around them.
And just for that moment,
The only two people in existence
Were the nameless old man and that sad little girl.

A Dying Man’s Last Breath

A DYING MANS LAST BREATH

A Dying Man’s Last Breath
As the ripe November moon rises
The not yet old man lays dying.
Not on his bed, nor on his floor,
Somewhere in between.
Discerning his last breath,
For only a moment, with gravity and importance.
Fragrant childhood fields of tiger lilies
Begin to bloom in his married room,
And the smell of old red and rotted barn doors.
Fantastic is the taste of a sweet and plump tomato,
Round and robbed right out of his mother’s garden.
The only background music,
A soft hum of Indianian wind through cattails.
Endless sunshine soaks his skin which now is filled with absolute youth.
Thousands of unreserved sunsets
That turn to a lifetime of coruscating evening skies.
66 years of first kisses grace his lips,
So does that bitter bathtub gin from senior prom.
Accomplishment arrives in his chest,
Inflating with words from his father, “I’m proud of you, son,”
Awakening in his fading ears.
Then he sees her.
In a form of remembered innocence,
With fiery hair
And a fiery soul that burned his taste for anyone else.
Anyone else but her.
Looking down, now dressed in his bridegroom clothes.
And her,
In a springtime of white and wonder.
Hearts hopeful with promise and eager to begin
His hands idle to build something.
A home.
Seemingly no time passes before she is quick with child.
And then he sees her.
With fiery hair
And a fiery soul that burned his adoration for anyone else.
Anyone else but her.
Feeding her watermelon with salt sprinkled on top
Just to watch her little nose crinkle.
The smell of fresh-cut, summer-kissed and dewy dawned grass
And her little toes.
How could anything ever be so tiny?
His arms warm with heavy bodies of wife and child.
A warmth that cascades
A warmth like a waterfall of tenderness over steep rocks of stoic features.
Seemingly no time passes and yet another miracle is delivered.
Then he sees her.
With fiery hair
And a fiery soul that burned his thanksgiving for anyone else.
Anyone else but her.
Pink satin swirling in his room,
His girls dancing in princess costumes.
His hair, now, a black and white photograph
As his girls all shine with vibrant hues of tenacity and resilience.
Flying and soaring over his perfectly manicured landscape
He planted over 100 pine trees,
His living picture frame proudly displaying what he had built.
Hands now lined, scarred, tattered and weak
As they grasp the bedside table in preparation for his last exhale.
His final act as a husband.
His final act as a father.
His final act as a man.
As millions of others have done before,
But not quite like him.
No, not quite like him at all.
He stood, so very tall,
Overlooking his kingdom,
On the sanded, stained and decades-old porch he built with his own two hands,
And the hands of his wife,
And the hands of his daughters.
Gentle snow or ash or princess glitter falls, tingling on his not yet old skin
As he smiles,
Welcoming the warmth of a new day.