Elfin magic

Enchanting
hypnotic
alluring moon
hidden beyond the rain clouds' boon

haunting
beckoning
tantalizing spoon
feeding this frenzy not one minute too soon

enchanting
gripping
spellbinding rune
entranced in this space 12 hours past noon

haunting
beckoning
mystical swoon
rock me with your lullaby tune


(Good night, sweet dream!
Won't you pretty please, dream of me, too!)


         *****************

Let not your heart be weighted
nor your love be blind or shaded

If your light is sadly faded

When love comes once again, fated,

Knocking at your door

May two fiery souls’ union

Come to you none too soon then

With a blessed and warm reunion

Of hearts' unabashed communion,

Listen! Love is calling on you

(I guess it doesn't always have to be about me, now, does it?)

Gift

The morning sky is all wrapped up
in
ribbons of pink and blue;
a gift from the mother,
You
are the new promise from life,
a new day that
I
am
given each time we laugh
every time we love
my belly smiles for it is
free
All tied up in these ribbons and bows
You give me life
You let me be
this awakened dream
that colors the morning sky

the passenger seat

Ask of me anything you want
take whatever you think you need
Know that I will surely give
for love has made a slave of me

Towering tree beyond my reach
ever stretching toward the sky
never does it fail to shelter
the restless wings of tireless flight

nor does the ocean cease to harbor
whales or turtles or angle faced fish
with never a question and never a doubt
for love's beating heart is anonymous

It's not that I crave your hungry, warm kisses
or the grasp of your strong, searching hand
These treats after all are not mine to savor
but I once knew your heart in the world of forever

So ask what you will and take what you need
for mine is the deepest pleasure
when I pray that I give you what you need to become
love's devoted slave, forever

if not for me, then for the world...

Wood you burn for me?

Dark, bone-chilling morning
not yet turned to light
I reach for a match
which when struck, will ignite

A small stream of smoke
follows jumbling sparks
brilliant yellow-orange flame
fiercely slaying the dark

Midst the hissing and jumping
of the heat that runs through me
I surrender to your deep, grooved beauty
which you offer to me, so freely

and oh, you keep me warm

In reverence I bow at the
base of your fire,
cup my hands round your warmth,
stoking sweet, deep desire

Not one question arises
in this safe, cozy room
for engulfed are we in this
swift, rising plume

Installations in the night

As the colors of playfulness fade from this day

And all of the light fades away

We are left with this bluish sky of gray

Where we see nothing other than what we laid

Against the wilting light

Silhouettes fading into the night

And in this dark where I cannot see

I hear you
I hear you calling me

Nom nom nom...

I am not that woman
I am not her bleeding womb
Don't call me crazed or fetching
Don't feed me to your frenzied wolf
Although my heart might sometimes bleed,
I am not that woman's scream
Don't bleed me dry with your cut and dry
Don't keep me from your other wolf
Don't steal from me what I have become
because of what she may have done
Don't take away my light, this day
for what the others have taken away


"which wolf wins?..."

the old cherokee simply replied,
"the one that you feed"

Ramblings beneath the moon.

What, I asked the stars, is love actually like?

"Receive all that is new, like a child does," came the whispered answer.

One time when I asked, Buddha told me that love does not flatter to deceive.

He was tapping his foot and rubbing his chin, looking somewhat miffed that this answer had to be repeated. 

But then any two loves differ as much as any two stars or snowflakes. There's nothing all that deep about it.

The problem with answers is that they limit you to a definition. Don't blow out the candle. Let it burn. Even stars don't seek to persevere, for then they couldn't be blistering balls of flaming energy.

So what's the point of all of this? Damn question. Shhhh...don't answer. A definition could definitely blow this one.

Owl be here

Cover me with your big, strong chest

    strong arms shield me from these elements

Shake me with your immortal kisses

        fill my every crevice with your strength and vigor

Hold me close with your eternal heart

    as I lead you through your inner war

Take me! through these glistening mines

        where danger dares not to define US

*************************************

Take me
Shake me
Rock me
Break me

Be the force that overtakes me

Thrill me
fill me
hold me
kill me

Be the light that will


*I think it's kind of funny that I sometimes write the same thing in a different format. But, then, aren't all songs about the love of something? Life is about nothing other than love. 


** I was "praying" today for the wisdom to fix my own heart's rifts and chasms. In this fixing I want no part of blaming anyone, so my epoxy must be compassion. Sometimes it's the compassion that we give to ourselves that heals from the inside out. But sometimes, it takes the love and understanding of another to just cauterize the bleeding.

Throw a wrench at it

In most of the times that I have negative feelings, I do not react. Or, I have learned not to, most of the time. Even when I do slip u0p I let myself off the hook pretty quickly because, it was just a mistake. Mistakes, really are just life's little wrench tweakings... Mere opportunities to strengthen and improve.

Okay, what mistake have I made now? I did it again, of course. I assumed that something might be what I was thinking it should be, because that's how I wanted it to be. See? That's what happens when you start thinking instead of just breathing and being with the right here and now.

I forgive myself. I'll have to ask forgiveness of the person on whom I afflicted my little thoughts.

I'm sorry...

What time is it?

Oh let me be the one

Who fills and moves your sails

The one who thrills your senses-

a love that never pales

 

Let me be the coupling

That conducts your flowing current

The pulse that beats and quickens,

The one your yearning dream meant

 

My heart knew yours

So long ago

It might have been a dream

But then I saw your

Face once more

Among the living realm

 

Why don't you want to be the one

The one who’d die to move me

The one who craves this radiant vibe

To soothe your soul completely 

 

Oh say you'll be the kiss of g~d,

Your lips upon my lips

The sweetest song, like heaven's touch

Strummed from your fingertips

 

Your heart knew mine

Before, I know

In a different place and time

So when I felt your gaze

caressing my face

I knew you should be mine

 

 

LOVE letters

I hear nothing in my ear but your voice.
Heart has plundered mind of all its eloquence.
Love writes a transparent calligraphy,
so on the empty page my soul can read and recollect. - Rumi


Yesterday I experienced "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," a movie about fantasy, Life and love. A few critics had panned it for being remiss in attaining its goal. What I find most funny about this particular review is the absolute message about 3/4 or maybe 7/8 of the way through the film, where the illusive character shares with Walter (who is experiencing a real adventure) that not everything has to be captured, but that sometimes you just have to be with the moment. The ultimate capture is the love in the moment.

Walking out of the movie I remembered that I needed to replenish my waning lip gloss stockpile. I was having trouble walking quickly to keep up with my friend because I kept getting lost in the visuals of the film where Walter is running past the posters of LIFE magazine, as he headed out to his adventure. The closing of LIFE inescapably recollected all of these moments which had made it. And all of these moments, if we allow ourselves to feel them, were founded on love. Not just my love, although some of them jarred and started me, but the love of people everywhere. People who I have not yet thought to imagine. 

Just a few hundred feet from the storefront where I was headed, another store grabbed my attention. There was a beautiful table which I immediately fell in love with. On top of the table, however, was what had really called me to look. The capital letters L O V E. I went inside to inspect them and discovered that they were constructed of rolled up magazine pages. Hadn't I just seen the movie about the closing of LIFE magazine and realized something wonderful? These letters were made to be mine. Love letters, after all, have always been my thing.

Seeing me

It

is your

eyes

that

make me

So

Choose love

going down

I
might
as
well
be
the one who falls
for
surely
I
have
spread my wings
if
I
never
dared
to have it all
then
how
would
I ever pause to redeem
the
glory
the
ecstasy
the
joy of melting in this