A Piece of Heaven

The Music Says It All. (Daehyun Park via Flickr)

I am longing for beauty and warmth ~

For color and sunlight on this dreary

White-skied day nine weeks from Spring ~

After the glory of multi-hued holiday

Decorations ~ this season of the year seems

Like a penance or a punishment ~

With no time off for good behavior ~

I have already braved the icy winds

Once ~ fighting to keep my umbrella

Turned right-side-out and my hat on ~

And now I watch with jaundiced eye

As icy rain smears itself across the panes ~

Ravel’s “Bolero” pours from the speakers ~

Impassioned notes that labor to dispel

The chill of this winter-dark afternoon ~

I sit up taller and unconsciously my body

Turns and yearns toward the source of

All that liquid beauty, those singing

Strings, the spear-like bursts of sound ~

From the bright gleaming brass, with

The underbeat of the drums throbbing

And urging me toward an end I do not

Comprehend but am quite unable to resist ~

And while the chords rush toward the final

Crescendo, my soul is ravished and on fire ~

In a consummation of beauty and music

And the words that cannot describe it

This side of heaven ~

Because I Must

It Blooms Because It Must

I am opening myself, body, mind and heart, for the first time in days, no weeks, edging towards months, that the words have not flowed, and I have felt so cut off and so alone, away from the fire that has warmed my frozen bones ere now. Come back, I know you’re out there. I know you’re waiting for me, and the key which seems to be mislaid, to unlock the floodgates and let it all come swarming in again. I have been bereft without the passion that warms my blood and keeps my senses alive and questing. Ah, here it comes, I can feel the movement, feel the slumberous spell sloughing off in waves as it all begins to flow again, to move within my brain and heart and nudge the words loose, make space for all the new growth, the new ideas, the new moods and needs and desires and the total unwillingness to give in, to let what is be enough, when I know it never can be ~ not for me with all the questions racing still through my brain and my life, and I know the answers are out there. It’s just a matter of connecting the two and finding the perfect ones as the light burns ever brighter and closer and I race, I race, to keep up as the tempo surges and I must catch up, there are words I must hear, carried in the wind moving ever and always away from me. I must be very quick to hear them, with all their nuances and meanings, just for me. And the music pours over me like honey, this is right, this is perfect and meant to be from the time before time was measured in the tiny increments of hours, minutes, days, this is from a time when it was all beginning and a time that will never end and I will search and search for the elusive answers as I travel down this road which owns me and my tired feet. I will send you word when I am able . . .

City of Roses

Roses for my City of Roses

My apartment perches

Atop its tier of four

Where I look out into the

Treetops that surround me.

In winter when the branches

Are bare and sere and twin

In color to the leaden sky,

They still are beautiful to see.

The longest and the coldest

Of the three autumns I have

Passed here, the rainiest and

Grayest I have yet endured,

Will in the end be only water

For my City of Roses

Autumn Again

Some of the leaves are a

Lip-pursing, sour-apple

Yellowy green, so tart

I can almost taste the

Sharp crisp bite as it

Implodes on my tongue,

Leaving my taste buds

Dazed and aroused and

Waiting for the next, almost

Painful, burst of flavor.

There are the trees with their

Leaves of red and orange,

Standing like flaming

Sentinels, spearing into

The blazing blue

Of the autumn sky.

Oh, how can I survive

Such burning beauty,

Season after season,

And not lose my hold

On reason, my sweet reason.

The smoke from the pyre

Of roasting leaves

Perfumes the air and

Brings back memories

From all the autumns

Of my days,

As I add another

Brightly-colored memory

To the story of my years.

Shall We Dance?

Male & Female Western Bluebirds

The flash of a

Bluebird’s wing

The scent of the

Summer rain

And all at once

I’m swept away

Back into your

Arms again

Do I miss you?

Do I want you?

I think I’d almost

Give my soul

To have you in my

Life once more

To fill that empty

Aching hole

Shall we learn from

Our mistakes?

Shall we take

Another chance?

Nothing gained if

Nothing ventured

Learn the steps and

Dance the dance

Shall I tell you

That I love you?

Shall you say you

Feel the same?

Find at last our

Happy ending

Beat the odds and

Win the game!

Serenity

Perfection

One’s youth is a happier

Time by far

When viewed across the

Safely intervening years

And though my hands

Could build a bridge

To take me back to fev’rish

Passions and swift tears

There is a wisdom which

Comes with age

Gleaned from battles fought

And battles won

That whispers for the heart

Alone to hear

Perfection cannot be

Improved upon

World Unexplored

Crimson velvet sin.

Do you see what I see? Look down, look down!
A whole drowned world at your feet.
Green become emerald, lush and shining,
Red turned to crimson velvet sin,
Everyday lights translated by rain,
And look at the pavement, a shiny black mirror,
Masking who knows what beneath.

Yet, you’re here beside me, with rain on your
Lashes, a light in your eyes,
And a new excitement grips me, before which
All my other dreams begin to fade …