Thursday, February 4, 2010

Deprivation

Deprivation

It exists within me now

That which once I had

In the presence of joy

Escaped

A feeling of loss abounds

Emptiness surrounds

Yet this brings forth moments when all my senses are keen

I hear the tones of music in pitch and in key : mellifluous

Baron are the darken branches of the winter tree resting against the grey white canvas of the sky - visual clarity astounds

my heart emotes with anxious appreciation awaiting the love I have inside

Soon to link in a moments time with the heart of those who have survived the lonely presence of my void and my desperation

Lucid understanding of that which soon will come along with times inevitable marriage of its past and present

Until then

There’s that sense of Deprivation

Sunday, January 31, 2010

Sometimes I Wonder, If

If mine eyes have witnessed the pleasure
of that gold filled sun that slowly gathers back
it’s fingers it had laid upon the day
and now pulls the night’s blanket o’er it’s head

If the mirror like reflection upon the garment of the sea
slowly waves gently goodbye as the sun
pulls away for it’s rest
as a winged contour of an ospreys silhouette
can be seen trying to find it’s resting nest
flying toward a rose colored veil rolling into the horizon

If the memory of my hearts fluttering as it shares this vision
along with a soft and gentle warm embrace of another
as the day departs while upon the shore the cool wet sand
sifts between our naked toes, we lay together holding hands

If the caws of seagulls fill the dusk
and intermittent roars of the sea
running toward the shore reminding us it never sleeps
and the tiny tinsel pricks of light begin to form those mythical
figures in the blacken space above
and the crispness of the air I breath in deep
so as to save within my heart, my chest,
the memory of this moment;

So, If and when my mortal body shall become
part of the earth and sand and it washes into the sea
and the waves carry what’s left of me
far out to where the sun lays its breast upon its evening resting place,
and my memory of the beauty my eyes beheld,
the passions my heart had felt and the sensual touch upon my hand,
this spirit of mine who has shared all this,
will it live on amongst the ‘eternity’ and the ‘everlasting’
tiny sprinkles of light that hover in the vastness of the night
and as it gives way once again to the waking day,
will my spirit also rise along side the sun from it’s horizon bed?