Once, you inspired a fire in my heartspace,

One that smelled of cedar trees and sandalwood

And felt like a thunderstorm.

This fire is not for you, not anymore.

I can no longer bear the weight of your memory and my own becoming,

So I must ask one to leave,

And I’m sure you understand

Which one must stay

So that I may rise up to become my own lover.

Yes, it’s true that once I sought refuge in your presence,

And then in your memory

And I held the weight of both our futures

In my soft palm

Which I held open for you

In trusting acceptance of our then-aligned paths.

I let gravity pull me down,

Down into your arms,

Cradled by the scent of certainty

And lulled into a solace born of devotion,

Devotion to an idea, a desire, an unmet longing.

And I composed sonnets to you in my

Love-soaked heart.

And now, my best poems

Are given to  my own self

As I gently breathe life

Into these newly-forged passions,

Sparked into being by a lover that I once knew

But now only exists as a memory,

A memory that I softly blow away

Into the velvet darkness

Of the Wild that lives inside of me.


About aletalane

I am a learner.
This entry was posted in Poems and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Becoming

  1. Koumba McKinnon says:

    Hi. I found you through your article on Rebelle Society, about climbing into your heart space. You are not alone! You’re actually a bit farther along in the journey. I recognize your way.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s