Abstinance

Wet hair on her skin
Tangled ‘tween her fingertips
How long it has been

Cold. Cool. Damp. Her Veil
Leads her into temptation
Her Will seems so frail

Her pores awaken
Tactile Temptress of the Truth
Visibly Shaken

Steps from the shower
Saved by her towel, by Time
By the late hour

Dryness of her skin
Empty in bed and in heart
Seeking Sacred Sin

Seeking Salvation.
Desiring Solitude.
Choosing Neither One.

April 6, 2018 1

Unexpected Delight

He runs to me with open arms, full of trust and love
and I delight in such expression; the openness undoes me
It’s difficult to translate, into words, the lesson conveyed
when he runs full tilt, arms open wide, and Laughing
never doubting my acceptance, or open reception

It’s a spiritual lesson, learned or unlearned with care
Our babies learn, and pass it on; they learn to love and share
He runs to me from across the room, smiling into the wind
of his own momentum, into the sea that is my heart
into my arms, into the love that awaits him there

My child, you are my heart’s delight.

Painting by Mabel Robbins Harris

April 4, 2018 5

Speechless

speechless among the flowers without language to convey
what happened to me tomorrow, what will happen yesterday

for yesterday’s events are fodder for today, for those who saw
and for those who heard, the speechless stumble

and it is true, we are strobed for Emanation to a degree
but at what cost? And who will be there to cry, or see?

I have done the research, and have not even come close
to learning how light emanates from heaven, into humble

Without Light I just wilt. I sigh. I cry. I wither away
to dust unsaid, to particles unknown, to yet another day.

If they saw its magnificence they would name it Divine.

April 3, 2018 0

Satin Kisses

“Love the Lord your God
with all your passion and prayers and intelligence and energy”

Mark 12:28-34

The sun blazed hot, molten, orange in my soul that day;
it was the day I said goodbye.
I looked at him and he looked at me;
I thought some more, and then began to cry …
Remembering satin kisses and the like.

Humiliated by my pointless defeat,
I slumped again, into my life of despair and pain.
At this point I knew he would go,
just like I knew nothing would ever be the same …
Remembering his hands, satin kisses and the like.

My feet were bone dead weary so long ago
that I cannot even say or guess how long. I just know.
I know this in the same way I know that I will likely never belong …
Remembering his strength, satin kisses and the like.

He was, and is, no ordinary creature of daylight
places or of simple male spaces.
Has more than I thought I knew,
of various names and complicated faces …
I remember gentleness without guile, satin kisses and the like.

He has left his lasting fingerprint
on the very fabric of my heart, and even my soul.
Leaving me to wonder once again,
if it is my place or destiny, to ever be whole …
Remembering with tears not soft, his satin kisses and the like.

April 1, 2018 0

Gospel Truth

I was his wife
I was his life mate
I was a part of him
I know he was part of me

Was his wife remembered
Was his love returned
Was any of it worth it in the end

His wife blended into history, then obscurity
Wife to companion, companion to harlot
Wife to harlot, harlot to whore

I was his wife

March 26, 2018 0

I Walk Unadorned

I walk unadorned, naked
unfettered . . .
dropping my clothes as I pass.
Each day my jewels fall
to the ground . . .
beneath my feet, bared
to the stones beneath them.

Honesty . . . is it so rare?
Truth, did it ever exist, like this?
But the stones are kind
as stones may be.
The stones are more than
and less than, I see.

I walk unadorned, freed.

Photo free from Wikimedia Commons

March 24, 2018 1

I Share My Grief

I share my grief in private places.
Blanket pressed hard to my face
in the dark, in the bathroom, door
closed behind me bent over the sink.

I share my grief in private places.
Smoothing it with lotion onto the
skin of my belly, deceptive and
swollen, yet emptied.
Bereaved in its own special way
echoing the pain that throbs beneath
the surface of every blood-run vein,
every artery connecting all the parts
of my useless body.

I share my grief in private places.
In my thoughts. In my feelings.
In the moments between when
they look at me, in the moments
their backs are turned.
I share my grief in my solitude.

I share my grief in the patches of
Light and in the patches of Dark, that
mark the timeline of my life today.

I share my grief.