As I lie looking out without you

I, in my bed darling, look out at the sky,
the rain coming down, the clouds
clustering darkly, and I feel your arms
come around me from behind
drawing me close, as we lie together
looking out the window beside the bed.

I feel your heart beating -
through your skin, through mine,
pressed together and I imagine
your smile, I feel it is there.

I hear your voice in my ear,
whispered, hushed.
Words only meant for me,
and I feel my own smile,
content in the moment.

The world ceases to be
aside from our view,
what matters most
exists between us -
the way our bodies touch,
the sight we share,
this moment we claim
for our own.

The Music

I hear the music,
the songs that we should share,
the words we would have written.

I see the envy of faces,
those who wished to be me,
those who wished to be you.

I feel this love,
intoxicating in full bloom,
but wasted.

I write my name in the stars
alone where two names
should cross.

When I hear that music
the longing stirs in my heart
and I see the empty in the distance.

To the Moonless Sky

Sometimes the living of life gets too hard,
and I want to skim the pages,
look ahead to when its easier,
or close my eyes and pretend
like I don't exist.

We stood in the rain together
when we were kids,
and you took your shirt off,
held it over my head,
to try to keep me dry.

You held me when I cried alone,
when there was only darkness,
when no one else could see or hear me,
I was invisible like you.

You're the voice on the wind,
that tells me to wait,
to hide who I am -
until you come to get me,
for only with you will I be
truly safe and happy.

I am the moon,
and you are my sky,
I cannot be without you,
I hear you call to me
and my eyes look upwards -
searching and waiting.

Life cycle of the Divine

In the first summer, she exhaled her divine spark –
took it in her hands and fashioned it
into a golden arrow, gleaming and long.

Notching back her bow, she aimed it high,
arms quivering in effort from her deep draw,
fingers blistering as she loosed it into the night.

A ringing sound broke the silence as
it cut the air like a gold comet thrown
by the hands of god at the heart of the moon.

Free from spirit her body fell into shadows,
her listless eyes watched the sky, oblivious
as to what could, would happen next.

Her arrow of creation plunged into the moon,
a slow seep of golden glow overtook
the usual silvery light welling from the center.

Erupting in orange gold flames the moon
became molten, burning steadily,
until nothing more than a shower of glowing ashes.

The heavens blessed this shower as it fell to earth,
down through the sky onto the archer,
chasing away darkness and shadows.

She alone stood in the field under a moonless sky,
covered in the ash of moon and creation,
rediscovered, reborn, renewed.

The journey she began as woman, as arrow
as the moon shining down, culminated in the
exhalation, piercing the layers of who she was.

Literary Fornix

They two danced in and out of words
like ying and yang, they pulled and pushed
one another, creativity ebbed and flowed
between their minds, one muse.

So when he slows and is quiet,
she races forward, fingers gliding
along the keyboard
as if she were composing music.

Music speaks to him, he sings along,
lost in the lyrics, no time to write,
but the tides feel the pull of the moon,
and she looks back over her shoulder.

The sight of him distracts her,
and she drifts in reverie as he
spins his own words into story,
a novelist at heart.

Can you keep up poetess
his eyes ask, her smile
says try me, and the night
is filled with keystrokes.

Puzzling out myself

Write! says the voice in my head
and so my fingers fly
words spinning out of nothingness
darkness invading
pushing me evermore down.

This is your constant
Always will it welcome you
back into the darkess.

Fractured fragments
of heart felt dreams
lie lifelessly, listlessly
forgotten on the floor -
Who would want them now?

A jigsaw puzzle missing pieces
misunderstood art
I am passed over
in the bargain bin.

I am my own worst enemy
I argue with myself
and no one interjects
on my behalf.

And so on
and so on it goes,
pushing me forward
telling me to write
commanding me
in imperative tones
I cannot ignore.

Senex

Eight nights we been here,
gathered in celebration,
all in your honor.
your favorite foods prepared-
spread out on the long table.

Tonight we turned your bed
to lean against the wall,
You will pass from the house,
through the celebration and
into the ground.