An old poem I wrote. It reminds me that I once had bursts of spontaneous creativity. All was spurred by thoughts and emotions and feelings I had at the time, for who can write such things on a void of a spirit? Am I so different now? Tthat even when visited by such emotions and thoughts now I cannot seem to get the words out? It once came so easily. I could always get the words out. Now I try to write something and it builds up such frustration because I can’t say what I need to say. What has changed in me, to make me need to cry out but unable to? I once had dreamy visions in my head of the love that I would someday feel. Fantastic hopes that it was out there, and was real. Love was alive to me, not just an emotion/feeling. Now my mind feels so desolate. The ennui of life has grasped my heart. My soul is crushed, in need of my savior again. Is it the rocks bearing down on me, or am I being surrounded in an ambush? I feel stifled, like something needs to get out. My soul is desperately trying to tell me something. It’s short, gasping breaths are revealing nothing. In the end, all their is…is silence. A search into my heart reveals all the bitterness that I managed to break through before. I am manically trying to displace this buildup, this plague. I am looking to blame anything, everything around me. Yet I cannot lay the blame down anywhere, cannot get rid of this weight. It is only when I am completely broken that I can begin the search for the pieces for myself.
For You Alone
You ask me to give what I cannot, will not, tell me again, gently, that I can.
Love’s insufferable qualities, flitting like a swallow in and out of my life, are made
Endurable by only you.
Love is blind they say, but it sees what even I cannot, revealing only Truth.
You are everywhere I am, softly bringing heart and mind to rest.
The pale beauty of the cherry blossoms and the flaming rosebud cannot capture my breath as you do.
A glimpse of your face, of your soul, sends my heart soaring higher than the birds.
For you alone I travel to places where fear runs rampant, where the soul quakes, for coming to you always soothes me.
Yes, this is my own, my heart laid claim long ago. You are mine, and I am yours, of that I am sure.
You are what I’ve been waiting for. Come, take my hand, and I will be yours forever.