"To believe is to know that every day is a new beginning.
It is to trust that miracles happen, and dreams really do come true.
To believe is to see angels dancing among the clouds,
To know the wonder of a stardust sky and the wisdom of the man in the moon.
To believe is to know the value of a nurturing heart,
The innocence of a child's eyes and the beauty of an aging hand,
for it is through their teachings we learn to love.
To believe is to find the strength and courage that lies within us.
When it is time to pick up the pieces and begin again.
To believe is to know we are not alone,
That life is a gift and this is our time to cherish it.
To believe is to know that wonderful surprises are just waiting to happen,
And all our hopes and dreams are within reach.
If only we believe."
Author Unknown
Friday, November 26, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
I am, Only Human
Only Human
Time is mostly itself when passing.
So bees wend high above the road
Where a fine dust cloud rises
And white birds appear in the gathered green.
No painter here to take their wing to canvas,
No inscrutable simplicity in a crack heads cluttered mime,
No poet giving voice to mute mud,
No philosophic sap, swollen knot of superadded wisdom,
Nor a Christ lodged in the slowing green snail . . .
Such are limp hands white with sleep,
Hair as water burns on golden sand,
Or wooden dark in its stillness.
It be the blaze of afternoon brings the heat of world,
Listing here on slight breezes, where
Over your radiant slumbers sugar cypress arms
Canopy my nodding vigil.
Invisible breath: guardian of our present
Steals through infant lips,
of a new old world,
Secretly to stir the leaves around.
Time is mostly itself, when passing.
Time is mostly itself when passing.
So bees wend high above the road
Where a fine dust cloud rises
And white birds appear in the gathered green.
No painter here to take their wing to canvas,
No inscrutable simplicity in a crack heads cluttered mime,
No poet giving voice to mute mud,
No philosophic sap, swollen knot of superadded wisdom,
Nor a Christ lodged in the slowing green snail . . .
Such are limp hands white with sleep,
Hair as water burns on golden sand,
Or wooden dark in its stillness.
It be the blaze of afternoon brings the heat of world,
Listing here on slight breezes, where
Over your radiant slumbers sugar cypress arms
Canopy my nodding vigil.
Invisible breath: guardian of our present
Steals through infant lips,
of a new old world,
Secretly to stir the leaves around.
Time is mostly itself, when passing.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
I still believe
just thinking about your dream(s), and how our dreams are often more than just vivid reminders of who and why we are.
Contained in those thoughts then was this image of you sleeping.
Breathing softly as you do, with that smile of yours looking up at me,
I was reminded of late August sunsets and candle light.
Which is why I stiil believe for every drop of rain that falls upon the road, a flower grows. Still, believing that somewhere in the darkest night, a candle will be glowing.
I still believe;
That for everyone who has gone astray, someone will come along to show them the way. Still believing above a storm the smallest prayer can still be heard.
Even a prayer spoken in your sleep.
Contained in those thoughts then was this image of you sleeping.
Breathing softly as you do, with that smile of yours looking up at me,
I was reminded of late August sunsets and candle light.
Which is why I stiil believe for every drop of rain that falls upon the road, a flower grows. Still, believing that somewhere in the darkest night, a candle will be glowing.
I still believe;
That for everyone who has gone astray, someone will come along to show them the way. Still believing above a storm the smallest prayer can still be heard.
Even a prayer spoken in your sleep.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
The Book of Love is........
The book of love is long and boring.
No one can lift the damn thing,
It's full of charts and facts and figures
and instructions for dancing,
But I love it when you read it to me,
For you can read me anything.
The book of love has music in it,
In fact that's where music comes from.
Some of it is just transcendental,
Some of it is just really dumb,
But I love it when you sing to me
And you You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago.
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I love it anyway.
No one can lift the damn thing,
It's full of charts and facts and figures
and instructions for dancing,
But I love it when you read it to me,
For you can read me anything.
The book of love has music in it,
In fact that's where music comes from.
Some of it is just transcendental,
Some of it is just really dumb,
But I love it when you sing to me
And you You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago.
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I love it anyway.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Always look up
On the way down,
I saw you and you saved me from myself
and I wont forget the way you loved me.
On the way down,
I almost fell through but I held on to you.
On the way down is when I loved you the most!
I saw you and you saved me from myself
and I wont forget the way you loved me.
On the way down,
I almost fell through but I held on to you.
On the way down is when I loved you the most!
Monday, November 08, 2004
A smile from me today...and always ~
"Did you know...that when you walk past a flower,
whether it be in somebody's garden or on a vacant hillside,
the flower will always smile at you.
The most polite way to respond,
I've been told,
is to cheerfully return the smile."
whether it be in somebody's garden or on a vacant hillside,
the flower will always smile at you.
The most polite way to respond,
I've been told,
is to cheerfully return the smile."
Saturday, November 06, 2004
When "she" spoke she said:
From where I am sitting you seem to have it(?) together.
Within you then, I see that you are intelligent and sensitive, strong and secure.
A bright star I imagine.
All good reasons for me to approach you.
To me, you appear open, free to explore and learn.
As for me, the more you want to know the deeper inside I will let you explore.
If it's passion you seek, you are looking in the right direction.
I know the value of a strong bond.
I understand the components of friendship and trust.
I know that true intensity, can be found, even in the quietest of moments!
In the between, I like to kiss, drink wine, watch the moon, run into waves, swing,
slide, teeter-totter, drive, ride, hide under blankets, eat, sleep, make love.... and sing of key.
Just your more basic of human desires and so much more too!
Within you then, I see that you are intelligent and sensitive, strong and secure.
A bright star I imagine.
All good reasons for me to approach you.
To me, you appear open, free to explore and learn.
As for me, the more you want to know the deeper inside I will let you explore.
If it's passion you seek, you are looking in the right direction.
I know the value of a strong bond.
I understand the components of friendship and trust.
I know that true intensity, can be found, even in the quietest of moments!
In the between, I like to kiss, drink wine, watch the moon, run into waves, swing,
slide, teeter-totter, drive, ride, hide under blankets, eat, sleep, make love.... and sing of key.
Just your more basic of human desires and so much more too!
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Her
Johanna
Do you miss me still?
Or has the screaming into the night,
Passed with the pain
Of my leaving?
On the subway yesterday,
A woman said
That the twilight
Of our love
Interrupts your sleep
Nevertheless.
I miss you too!
Do you miss me still?
Or has the screaming into the night,
Passed with the pain
Of my leaving?
On the subway yesterday,
A woman said
That the twilight
Of our love
Interrupts your sleep
Nevertheless.
I miss you too!
Thursday, October 28, 2004
A thought for your pain
Afterwards:
The world is turning,
The fires burning,
And there was God!
Not standing by,
Though by your side,
The Creator waits for you.
The world is turning,
The fires burning,
And there was God!
Not standing by,
Though by your side,
The Creator waits for you.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Falling back in time
I am not the mountain, though the mountain is me:
You will never therefore know me;
Until you reached my peak
Stood upon my ridgeline
Traveled the unmarked path of my crags
Waded the depths of my rivers
Crossed my phantom bridges
Seen what I have witnessed
Endured the storms that batter me still
Love how I have loved
Give as I have taken
Endured the depths of my passions
I am the mountain, though the mountain is not me:
You will not know who I am;
By my written words
But by my unspoken whispers
The language of my rocky embrace
Without the tenderness of my indomitable summit
For just like all mountains before me;
I have dreams, and my dreams contain wishes
My wishes have ambition, and my ambitions have desires
Within my desires, there are often emotions
Contained in my emotions are fury, yet I am not furious.
I am therefore the hidden lava below the snow cap,
Do you know where to find me?
Do you dare to meet me?
Do you care to complete me?
Yes, I have made mistakes in my life,
As have some others mountains
But I am not in competition with them.
I am not the mountain of your fears,
All of what I have done, where I have been
And the choices I have made
Make me who I am today,
The Mountain, who became a Man!
Do you still care to hear me?
Do you know where to be near me?
Are you ready to find out?
You will never therefore know me;
Until you reached my peak
Stood upon my ridgeline
Traveled the unmarked path of my crags
Waded the depths of my rivers
Crossed my phantom bridges
Seen what I have witnessed
Endured the storms that batter me still
Love how I have loved
Give as I have taken
Endured the depths of my passions
I am the mountain, though the mountain is not me:
You will not know who I am;
By my written words
But by my unspoken whispers
The language of my rocky embrace
Without the tenderness of my indomitable summit
For just like all mountains before me;
I have dreams, and my dreams contain wishes
My wishes have ambition, and my ambitions have desires
Within my desires, there are often emotions
Contained in my emotions are fury, yet I am not furious.
I am therefore the hidden lava below the snow cap,
Do you know where to find me?
Do you dare to meet me?
Do you care to complete me?
Yes, I have made mistakes in my life,
As have some others mountains
But I am not in competition with them.
I am not the mountain of your fears,
All of what I have done, where I have been
And the choices I have made
Make me who I am today,
The Mountain, who became a Man!
Do you still care to hear me?
Do you know where to be near me?
Are you ready to find out?
Friday, October 15, 2004
Losing anothers Love
One of the fundamental aspects of loving is the willingness to unite deeply with another person. It is natural that we should desire to be a deep and integral part of those we love. We believe that we can only bring them happiness if we can know them mind, body and soul.
There is an inherent danger in this when we become so thoroughly involved with another that we lose ourselves. In so doing, we become less to everyone who loves us. For us to totally merge our identity with another is to deny our past and all that makes us who we are. A loving relationship works better as a voluntary coming together of two separate individuals. Through their dedication and respect for each other, they create a new entity, which is neither one of them, but part of both- their relationship.
New relationships are always fragile; for those that survive seem either to age gracefully or end up simply aging. The difference it seems is in the two people, who have maintained their personal integrity and who have also been willing to merge their efforts and uniqueness into shaping their love, towards another independent being.
We will find it necessary to relinquish something of ourselves with each new relationship, but it is wise to be forever cautious not to totally lose ourselves in the process. For those who love us, learned to love us as individuals, not as part their greater whole, but separate unto ourselves, and whole from within.
There is an inherent danger in this when we become so thoroughly involved with another that we lose ourselves. In so doing, we become less to everyone who loves us. For us to totally merge our identity with another is to deny our past and all that makes us who we are. A loving relationship works better as a voluntary coming together of two separate individuals. Through their dedication and respect for each other, they create a new entity, which is neither one of them, but part of both- their relationship.
New relationships are always fragile; for those that survive seem either to age gracefully or end up simply aging. The difference it seems is in the two people, who have maintained their personal integrity and who have also been willing to merge their efforts and uniqueness into shaping their love, towards another independent being.
We will find it necessary to relinquish something of ourselves with each new relationship, but it is wise to be forever cautious not to totally lose ourselves in the process. For those who love us, learned to love us as individuals, not as part their greater whole, but separate unto ourselves, and whole from within.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
A new Season of Love
If love were a season,
It would begin in the Spring; warm and tender.
As the gentle rains fell, love like a flower
Would grow, reaching ever higher
For the warming Sun.
Just as if love were any season,
Before we knew it
The bright hot sun of the summer
Would scorch our love.
Forcing us to seek the shelter
Of each others protective embrace.
If love were any other season,
The chill of our words
Would become the ice
on the ponds that dot our hearts.
Waiting,
Waiting still,
For the season to change
Us back into the succulent splendor
That was our spring time beginning!
It would begin in the Spring; warm and tender.
As the gentle rains fell, love like a flower
Would grow, reaching ever higher
For the warming Sun.
Just as if love were any season,
Before we knew it
The bright hot sun of the summer
Would scorch our love.
Forcing us to seek the shelter
Of each others protective embrace.
If love were any other season,
The chill of our words
Would become the ice
on the ponds that dot our hearts.
Waiting,
Waiting still,
For the season to change
Us back into the succulent splendor
That was our spring time beginning!
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Asia: Part 3
You see, Asia never left me that day, nor for the great many seemingly wonderful days that followed; each in its own way filled with endlessly amazing, exasperating and enriching moments!
Even now I can recall the look in her eyes when we went about the peninsula and surrounding islands together. The honestly beautiful way she took in every sight and sound was and still is the barometer that I now use to gauge the interest of every woman who has come into my life since asking her to leave. Admittedly, even I learned something about this place I had called home since as long as I have memories, such was the wonder of this woman and her unique way of seeing everything as it truly is and not as it may appear to others. Spending all that time with Asia was indeed a wonderful, yet completely aggravating experience.
For with each new way that her smile warmed my heart, there was still no way to get around her combustible temper, nor the one true barrier that kept us physically separated during that summer and for the many years that passed after. No, it’s not that the longing wasn’t there between us, for often when she would steal into my room at night, feigning some imaged noise or fear, after she would drift back asleep beside me, I would be painfully awake wondering about my long ago made pledge.
It would seem that Asia had never been with a man before. Never had she known the fevered embrace of unbridled passion and its constant companion, lustful intentions. Sure, I bet there were those awkward stolen kisses by the school yard fence, maybe even a long slow dance against a grinding hip on the dance floor of her High School prom, but for the most part, the ham fisted fear her dad had placed into the neighborhood boys was sufficient to keep her untouched by any mans undoing. Until me(?). Wanting her, sometimes even seeing the need within her, always propelled me to complete the triangle of our love, yet no matter how hard she tried, I always stood by the hardest promise I ever kept. There she would be, curled up on the coach when I got home from the day, asking with those green eyes if tonight would be the night?
Trying on every bit of clothing left in my home by previous lovers, or some nights, wearing no clothing at all, and yet never did I fall into that temptation. For even if you peeled away all the swashbuckling exploits of my life, unearthed and reassembled the burned up letters, poems and napkin sized love notes of my youth, one thing would still stand glaringly abstract in all of my conquests, never had I, nor would I, touch caress, or even gently fondle the daughter of a man without his permission. Odd you may say, for what father does give his permission? None to my knowledge, but just as each crime has its own code of punishment, so then does each criminal have his or her own area of vulnerbility. For me then, no matter the promised booty, nor how loud or ever more succulently the sirens call, anything still unspoiled by the hand of another man, passes by me as if it were the daughter of a man I liked.
As to Asia and those Sunday gatherings, well that particular summer eventually ended and she had to return home for a time. Seems her visa was indeed tied to the employment contract she never actually fulfilled. Consequently, between us passed many more long hot and lonely summers until she was able to return to the man who taught her how to be a woman without ever forgetting the he was indeed, a man. These days, Asia runs a shop up the beach from where I found her, not really making a living, but living beyond just enough to get by. As to us and this dance we still do, well some things never actually change. For within me, there has been many a moment and embrace with another, yet between us, the depth of our intimacy will continue to grow, but the longing, well, it still lingers.
Even now I can recall the look in her eyes when we went about the peninsula and surrounding islands together. The honestly beautiful way she took in every sight and sound was and still is the barometer that I now use to gauge the interest of every woman who has come into my life since asking her to leave. Admittedly, even I learned something about this place I had called home since as long as I have memories, such was the wonder of this woman and her unique way of seeing everything as it truly is and not as it may appear to others. Spending all that time with Asia was indeed a wonderful, yet completely aggravating experience.
For with each new way that her smile warmed my heart, there was still no way to get around her combustible temper, nor the one true barrier that kept us physically separated during that summer and for the many years that passed after. No, it’s not that the longing wasn’t there between us, for often when she would steal into my room at night, feigning some imaged noise or fear, after she would drift back asleep beside me, I would be painfully awake wondering about my long ago made pledge.
It would seem that Asia had never been with a man before. Never had she known the fevered embrace of unbridled passion and its constant companion, lustful intentions. Sure, I bet there were those awkward stolen kisses by the school yard fence, maybe even a long slow dance against a grinding hip on the dance floor of her High School prom, but for the most part, the ham fisted fear her dad had placed into the neighborhood boys was sufficient to keep her untouched by any mans undoing. Until me(?). Wanting her, sometimes even seeing the need within her, always propelled me to complete the triangle of our love, yet no matter how hard she tried, I always stood by the hardest promise I ever kept. There she would be, curled up on the coach when I got home from the day, asking with those green eyes if tonight would be the night?
Trying on every bit of clothing left in my home by previous lovers, or some nights, wearing no clothing at all, and yet never did I fall into that temptation. For even if you peeled away all the swashbuckling exploits of my life, unearthed and reassembled the burned up letters, poems and napkin sized love notes of my youth, one thing would still stand glaringly abstract in all of my conquests, never had I, nor would I, touch caress, or even gently fondle the daughter of a man without his permission. Odd you may say, for what father does give his permission? None to my knowledge, but just as each crime has its own code of punishment, so then does each criminal have his or her own area of vulnerbility. For me then, no matter the promised booty, nor how loud or ever more succulently the sirens call, anything still unspoiled by the hand of another man, passes by me as if it were the daughter of a man I liked.
As to Asia and those Sunday gatherings, well that particular summer eventually ended and she had to return home for a time. Seems her visa was indeed tied to the employment contract she never actually fulfilled. Consequently, between us passed many more long hot and lonely summers until she was able to return to the man who taught her how to be a woman without ever forgetting the he was indeed, a man. These days, Asia runs a shop up the beach from where I found her, not really making a living, but living beyond just enough to get by. As to us and this dance we still do, well some things never actually change. For within me, there has been many a moment and embrace with another, yet between us, the depth of our intimacy will continue to grow, but the longing, well, it still lingers.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Asia: Part 2
Yet as with any new revelation, often then appears the reflected realityof the moment, now that we had met, and such a meeting it was, how are we to proceed? For already, I sensed the touch of overwhelming emotional beginnings unfold.
Walking back with her up to the parking lot, it was hard to understand what she was saying.
Not that she didn’t speak the same language as I did, but the way she punctuated each syllable, and the husk of her deep throated dialect was like nothing I had ever heard before. Words from her were like shouts in a gale, and I strained to hear each one completely.
I laughed when she said her name, this caused her to turn around and face me, and for the first time, I completely saw her. Such a one as this I thought, who could have known the power within a woman could be so strong and able? Laugh she said. Am I someone in whom you find humor? Now these words I perceived more than heard, and with my reeling backward, off she ambled on ahead. Hmn, guess I had better wait until she’s dry before I try any more humor I thought? Reaching the paved area, Asia stops again and waits for me to step up to where she now stands, before she begins to actually speak to me in a voice that would be my undoing.
Edward she says, which vehicle be yours? Blinking I guess, I am caught off guard by the clarity and tone of her words. What happened to the accented and crashing syllables, the indecipherable outbursts of some foreign dialect? She was a wonder that Asia, and I of course was absolutely blinded by beauty of it all. Showing her the way to the truck, I began to steal glances over at her. Always it seemed that when I looked her way, there was her gaze, looking back intently at me, searching my face for some answer, as if to say that all the answers were already written there for her alone to see.
Who was this woman I wondered, and why is it that I’ve discovered her in the here and now of this new season of my life?All my real questions would go unanswered to this day, for after I let her into the truck and turned the heat on, taking care to more tightly wrap the blanket completely around her, I wondered aloud if there was anything else I could do for her, and that was when all the answers to my seemingly unspoken questions came out in a tumble. Yesterday it seemed Asia had come out onto the Cape Cod peninsula from the airport up in Boston. A twelve hour flight from Glasgow, Scotland had found her in a strange place, without any desire to stay and no real way to return until her posting here was completed.
Seeking then only to settle into her summer job as a nanny for one of the families over in the Mc Mansion marina across the bay, she happened to mention her feelings to another staff member who thought a few drinks and a stroll along the break water would be just the thing to take her mind off her summer away from home, and the loneliness that can bring.Perhaps it was the lack of food or just the loss of time references, but to the best of her ability to recall the events of that first night, she was sitting in the dunes and looking across the water at her island home so far away, drinking chilled wine and talking with her new friend about all the things they missed about their homes, and the next thing she could readily remember was waking to the sound of the mornings gulls dropping their clam breakfast out onto the parking lot were we now sat.
Asking her then why she was in the river channel was truly not the question, for that she had no real answers anyway. Somehow she thought she had crossed the marsh on her way into the dunes and that was the way she could see to get back across. As for the missing friend, she wasn’t sure why she had left her out there alone like that, but if her earlier attitude with me was any indication; my thoughts began drifting to the lifted spirits of a foul mouth and a right surly attitude, though I digress from the topic at hand.
Walking back with her up to the parking lot, it was hard to understand what she was saying.
Not that she didn’t speak the same language as I did, but the way she punctuated each syllable, and the husk of her deep throated dialect was like nothing I had ever heard before. Words from her were like shouts in a gale, and I strained to hear each one completely.
I laughed when she said her name, this caused her to turn around and face me, and for the first time, I completely saw her. Such a one as this I thought, who could have known the power within a woman could be so strong and able? Laugh she said. Am I someone in whom you find humor? Now these words I perceived more than heard, and with my reeling backward, off she ambled on ahead. Hmn, guess I had better wait until she’s dry before I try any more humor I thought? Reaching the paved area, Asia stops again and waits for me to step up to where she now stands, before she begins to actually speak to me in a voice that would be my undoing.
Edward she says, which vehicle be yours? Blinking I guess, I am caught off guard by the clarity and tone of her words. What happened to the accented and crashing syllables, the indecipherable outbursts of some foreign dialect? She was a wonder that Asia, and I of course was absolutely blinded by beauty of it all. Showing her the way to the truck, I began to steal glances over at her. Always it seemed that when I looked her way, there was her gaze, looking back intently at me, searching my face for some answer, as if to say that all the answers were already written there for her alone to see.
Who was this woman I wondered, and why is it that I’ve discovered her in the here and now of this new season of my life?All my real questions would go unanswered to this day, for after I let her into the truck and turned the heat on, taking care to more tightly wrap the blanket completely around her, I wondered aloud if there was anything else I could do for her, and that was when all the answers to my seemingly unspoken questions came out in a tumble. Yesterday it seemed Asia had come out onto the Cape Cod peninsula from the airport up in Boston. A twelve hour flight from Glasgow, Scotland had found her in a strange place, without any desire to stay and no real way to return until her posting here was completed.
Seeking then only to settle into her summer job as a nanny for one of the families over in the Mc Mansion marina across the bay, she happened to mention her feelings to another staff member who thought a few drinks and a stroll along the break water would be just the thing to take her mind off her summer away from home, and the loneliness that can bring.Perhaps it was the lack of food or just the loss of time references, but to the best of her ability to recall the events of that first night, she was sitting in the dunes and looking across the water at her island home so far away, drinking chilled wine and talking with her new friend about all the things they missed about their homes, and the next thing she could readily remember was waking to the sound of the mornings gulls dropping their clam breakfast out onto the parking lot were we now sat.
Asking her then why she was in the river channel was truly not the question, for that she had no real answers anyway. Somehow she thought she had crossed the marsh on her way into the dunes and that was the way she could see to get back across. As for the missing friend, she wasn’t sure why she had left her out there alone like that, but if her earlier attitude with me was any indication; my thoughts began drifting to the lifted spirits of a foul mouth and a right surly attitude, though I digress from the topic at hand.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Asia. A story told in 3 parts
Another Sunday afternoon beckons and I could tell by the number of cars strewn across the yard, this was going to be a good party indeed.Admittedly, when it came to these Sunday gatherings, the fewer those in attendance the better, though on this Sunday I was actually looking forward to the distraction a greater number would bring to my dilemma.
Walking as I would into the foyer, I sensed more than saw her entering the den from off the horizon deck. Seems that everyone knows why she’s here now. Here even more than should have been necessary they say, and still she comes. I give a nod at her wave and begin to say my hellos when I realize that her intent is to come up behind me this morning for our now ritual kiss. Smiling at the host, I recognize perhaps I should begin my telling from the actual beginning.
Seems to me like a whole month of Sundays has gone past since that one Sunday dawned into my life. As it was always, I began my morning walk along the rivers edge just this side of the bay. Usually it would be just the egrets and I, maybe a tern or two, here in Hyannis harbor, but almost always at this time of the day no other human traffic. Funny then how I found her, expecting to see just the waves as the river swelled from the inrushing tide, and instead there she was, up to her knees in the silt having just been caught out of the marshes edge by the swift currents surrounding her.
To be honest, it was hard to tell if she really needed my help at all, what with the way her eyes burned with the determination to keep her balance and momentum. I almost stepped back behind the reeds just to see if she could make it alone, but needless to say, I did wade out to where she was potentially planted just in case.Asia was her name, island born Irish by birth, completely continental by choice. All eyes, with massive curls and abundant freckles, of those spots I would wonder often if they were a sign of the animal within or just a series of nano sized stop signs for those us without!
Of course she thanked me, but it wasn’t like I had a lot to do with it. I offered to give her my blanket from the beach truck, never thinking to ask her how she came to be out in the flats as if clamming without any gear. No matter I guessed, a good deed done and I was actually happy for the company.I was all about her presence that day, for her being with me revealed how actually alone I had become out here on the mouth of this river, how these lonely walks to clear my thoughts of one had completely landed me right in the middle of another.
Walking as I would into the foyer, I sensed more than saw her entering the den from off the horizon deck. Seems that everyone knows why she’s here now. Here even more than should have been necessary they say, and still she comes. I give a nod at her wave and begin to say my hellos when I realize that her intent is to come up behind me this morning for our now ritual kiss. Smiling at the host, I recognize perhaps I should begin my telling from the actual beginning.
Seems to me like a whole month of Sundays has gone past since that one Sunday dawned into my life. As it was always, I began my morning walk along the rivers edge just this side of the bay. Usually it would be just the egrets and I, maybe a tern or two, here in Hyannis harbor, but almost always at this time of the day no other human traffic. Funny then how I found her, expecting to see just the waves as the river swelled from the inrushing tide, and instead there she was, up to her knees in the silt having just been caught out of the marshes edge by the swift currents surrounding her.
To be honest, it was hard to tell if she really needed my help at all, what with the way her eyes burned with the determination to keep her balance and momentum. I almost stepped back behind the reeds just to see if she could make it alone, but needless to say, I did wade out to where she was potentially planted just in case.Asia was her name, island born Irish by birth, completely continental by choice. All eyes, with massive curls and abundant freckles, of those spots I would wonder often if they were a sign of the animal within or just a series of nano sized stop signs for those us without!
Of course she thanked me, but it wasn’t like I had a lot to do with it. I offered to give her my blanket from the beach truck, never thinking to ask her how she came to be out in the flats as if clamming without any gear. No matter I guessed, a good deed done and I was actually happy for the company.I was all about her presence that day, for her being with me revealed how actually alone I had become out here on the mouth of this river, how these lonely walks to clear my thoughts of one had completely landed me right in the middle of another.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Visions of You
Last night in my dreams,
The wind came to see me.
Thinking as I do about you,
Wondering maybe more than I should,
He showed me some of the reasons whyYou are, as you appear to me!
As I rose up in his arms,
He took me into your valley
and allowed me to tickle you with a gentle breeze,
as you smiled sweetly.
After, I drifted passsed you and back into the sky,
I could see your days unfolded before you, and I just had to sigh!
You, unlike the wind,
are often tufted and turned by the whims and needs of others.
Pulled and prodded this way and that
for the sake of someone else’s pleasure..........sorry baby.
This day, Tomorrow
Everyday, that you know of me,
Please think of my as a Sunny little Island then.
A place of your calm and resting breezes,
Not another person who needs your attention,
But a one who's attention you already have.
The wind came to see me.
Thinking as I do about you,
Wondering maybe more than I should,
He showed me some of the reasons whyYou are, as you appear to me!
As I rose up in his arms,
He took me into your valley
and allowed me to tickle you with a gentle breeze,
as you smiled sweetly.
After, I drifted passsed you and back into the sky,
I could see your days unfolded before you, and I just had to sigh!
You, unlike the wind,
are often tufted and turned by the whims and needs of others.
Pulled and prodded this way and that
for the sake of someone else’s pleasure..........sorry baby.
This day, Tomorrow
Everyday, that you know of me,
Please think of my as a Sunny little Island then.
A place of your calm and resting breezes,
Not another person who needs your attention,
But a one who's attention you already have.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Which is my future within you?
People have laughed at me several times;
they say I'm being ridiculous, that this is just too strange...
but would it be much better for you my dear
if I never told you that I care for you?
Truly, the moment my feet landed on the Lord's ground,
it opened my mind to see within these complicated lives
that swirled aound me I knew right then
of the catastrophes within my own life...
together with its mysteries, happiness and joy!
My life, though full as it was with another’s
miseries, agonies, tortured longing and sorrow,
had love but then, when You came into my life
I knew then that nature had indeed smiled upon me
and these black clouds of another gave way to joyful skies.
Knowing then, that you would be a part of me
for your longing never left my puzzled mind.
Your heartbeats, never stopped beating upon within my chest,
even though I no longer held you close.
In the distance that you’ve allowed to form between us…..
I’ve come to know you, and your heart well.
I still recall that day we looked at each other's eyes
often, remembrances which became sweeter as they last
without becoming bitter, and bitter as we parted
never to be back in each other arms again is the question
Yet, even if this will never happen,
neither will it be erased from my memory...
For you, that smile of yours, and your love within....
these things I’ll never be tired of remembering....
they say I'm being ridiculous, that this is just too strange...
but would it be much better for you my dear
if I never told you that I care for you?
Truly, the moment my feet landed on the Lord's ground,
it opened my mind to see within these complicated lives
that swirled aound me I knew right then
of the catastrophes within my own life...
together with its mysteries, happiness and joy!
My life, though full as it was with another’s
miseries, agonies, tortured longing and sorrow,
had love but then, when You came into my life
I knew then that nature had indeed smiled upon me
and these black clouds of another gave way to joyful skies.
Knowing then, that you would be a part of me
for your longing never left my puzzled mind.
Your heartbeats, never stopped beating upon within my chest,
even though I no longer held you close.
In the distance that you’ve allowed to form between us…..
I’ve come to know you, and your heart well.
I still recall that day we looked at each other's eyes
often, remembrances which became sweeter as they last
without becoming bitter, and bitter as we parted
never to be back in each other arms again is the question
Yet, even if this will never happen,
neither will it be erased from my memory...
For you, that smile of yours, and your love within....
these things I’ll never be tired of remembering....
Saturday, August 21, 2004
You.................
You,
beloved,
who were lost before the beginning, who never came,
I do not know which sounds might be precious to you.
No longer do I try to recognize you, when, as a surging wave, something is about to manifest.
All the huge images in me, the deeply-sensed far-away landscapes, cities and towers and bridges and un-suspected turns of the path, the powerful life of landsonce filled with the presence of gods: all rise with you to find clear meaning in me, your, forever, elusive one.
You, who are all the gardens I've ever looked upon, full of promise. An open windowin a country house—, and you almost stepped towards me, thoughtfully. Sidestreets I happened upon,—you had just passed through them, and sometimes, in the small shops of sellers, the mirrors were still dizzy with you and gave back, frightened, my too sudden form.—Who is to say if the same bird did not resound through us both yesterday, separate, in the evening?
Rilke(Paris, winter 1913 - 14)
beloved,
who were lost before the beginning, who never came,
I do not know which sounds might be precious to you.
No longer do I try to recognize you, when, as a surging wave, something is about to manifest.
All the huge images in me, the deeply-sensed far-away landscapes, cities and towers and bridges and un-suspected turns of the path, the powerful life of landsonce filled with the presence of gods: all rise with you to find clear meaning in me, your, forever, elusive one.
You, who are all the gardens I've ever looked upon, full of promise. An open windowin a country house—, and you almost stepped towards me, thoughtfully. Sidestreets I happened upon,—you had just passed through them, and sometimes, in the small shops of sellers, the mirrors were still dizzy with you and gave back, frightened, my too sudden form.—Who is to say if the same bird did not resound through us both yesterday, separate, in the evening?
Rilke(Paris, winter 1913 - 14)
Monday, August 16, 2004
A very Blessed.....................
.................and beautiful Good Morning to you SunShine!
No matter the yesterday(s), today is the day He promised to give to you, and within it you should indeed find immense peace and beauty......pleasure and serenity, not only around you, but coming from within you as well!
As you reach out and accept this blessing, can we look inward for just a moment my dear?
For all too often my beautiful one, someone is re-telling you that same lie from your youth, somehow, someway, you are guilty of doing, or feeling something that is not your right to do so.
Again I say into you though, this is just the mirage of another's love and not Love in the way it was intended, and as such, you need not believe it. Yes, often people will blame someone enough, and they will begin to believe the lie as their own personal truth.........is this you my love? For in being a woman, you have the inherent right to become emotional and to reach out to another via this emotionality.
Whereas for another to say that you do not have this right, is just another example of someone telling you who you need to be, and not someone accepting you as you are....Beautiful! Today, instead of feeling someone else's pain(s), look into the eyes of your own refelection and the many bright and alive ones that will be surrounding you this very day and see life. Life and love in its uncorrupted state and smile, for this is the kind of love that you need.
A Love that does not punish, nor place blame, or even attempt to affix guilt upon another for their honest attempt to be themselves.You are beauty and peace my friend, cover yourself with this truth and reject anything that does not accept and exalt the inherent beauty of who and what you are:Child, Woman, Mother, Friend, Lover, Artisan and Love!!!A one who believes their own truth, not someone else's lies.
No matter the yesterday(s), today is the day He promised to give to you, and within it you should indeed find immense peace and beauty......pleasure and serenity, not only around you, but coming from within you as well!
As you reach out and accept this blessing, can we look inward for just a moment my dear?
For all too often my beautiful one, someone is re-telling you that same lie from your youth, somehow, someway, you are guilty of doing, or feeling something that is not your right to do so.
Again I say into you though, this is just the mirage of another's love and not Love in the way it was intended, and as such, you need not believe it. Yes, often people will blame someone enough, and they will begin to believe the lie as their own personal truth.........is this you my love? For in being a woman, you have the inherent right to become emotional and to reach out to another via this emotionality.
Whereas for another to say that you do not have this right, is just another example of someone telling you who you need to be, and not someone accepting you as you are....Beautiful! Today, instead of feeling someone else's pain(s), look into the eyes of your own refelection and the many bright and alive ones that will be surrounding you this very day and see life. Life and love in its uncorrupted state and smile, for this is the kind of love that you need.
A Love that does not punish, nor place blame, or even attempt to affix guilt upon another for their honest attempt to be themselves.You are beauty and peace my friend, cover yourself with this truth and reject anything that does not accept and exalt the inherent beauty of who and what you are:Child, Woman, Mother, Friend, Lover, Artisan and Love!!!A one who believes their own truth, not someone else's lies.
Thursday, August 12, 2004
Visions of our tomorrow:
Uptown, people still wander about,
a white face stops to peer down the alley way of our lives and turns away.
Is it the wildness of our embrace, or is it the wonder of how we readily face all that we are,
or have we already become his nightmare of tomorrow?
Later, I sleep and crazily dream.
A dark end of summer kind of dream,
of the moon, and the liquid passion in your eyes.
Softly, I kiss your lips and tremble,
is that your blood or mine I taste?
Not that it matters,
for all that you'll become,
I already am.
a white face stops to peer down the alley way of our lives and turns away.
Is it the wildness of our embrace, or is it the wonder of how we readily face all that we are,
or have we already become his nightmare of tomorrow?
Later, I sleep and crazily dream.
A dark end of summer kind of dream,
of the moon, and the liquid passion in your eyes.
Softly, I kiss your lips and tremble,
is that your blood or mine I taste?
Not that it matters,
for all that you'll become,
I already am.
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