Il Bacio, Francesco Hayez, 1859
The Kiss
It wasn’t suppose to be
In broad daylight
Where everyone could see
But no one was looking
As your your lips met mine
Your hands held me close
Our truth set free
And I will forever know that you love me
White Butterfly
(A Cabbage White and Other Insects on a Rocky Bank by a pond, Carl Wilhelm de Hamilton, 1668-1754)
White Butterfly
Wings flutter to the whisper of the wind
Light in the awakening
The flurry an echo of melodia
Angels on high
Stirring above the decay
Leaving behind the binding of limitations
Set free…
Greeting the ones who know
Mesmerizing the soul that stirs
Peace is but a moment; comfort fleeting
Meaning unbound
The direction uncharted
Divinity so tangible, yet so unattainable
A Soul’s Journey
(Poem For The Soul, Louis Janmot, 1854)
A Soul’s Journey
Regrets
Ones to come
Many left behind
Meaningless in theory
Heavy in reality
The old woman barely remembers
The young girl too free to care
Only the wise carries the burden
Harken fool!
Listen to the hushed voices
They are not condemning
Nor is your purpose wasted
Release your judgment
Or is it fear?
Remember who you are; who you will be
Live in the moment – like a child
Forget all that scatters your mind – like the old
In between is the journey, lessons abound
Enrich what needs to be toiled
Bear witness to joy
For condemnation is your imagination
And your soul is listening
Beyond
(Setting Out To Sea, Valencia, Joaquín Sorolla, 1863 – 1923)
Beyond
You died
Was it a punch in the gut,
Or a tear at my heart?
The lost time between us was adrift
Somewhere out there…
In the universe my thoughts would come to you
Asking for you to reach out, hoping you would know
My words were strong, but my feelings deep
Both hurt you – I hurt you
You misconstrued, misrepresented me; my purpose for you
Souls in wanting do that
I was always supposed to ground you
Remind you of the heart you let get cold
Denying the purpose for your existence
You were meant for greatness, only in a way that was not so great
You were great to me…to many others you leave behind
The wisdom you obtained, the searching from the ends of the earth,
if not the ends of your mind, were not lost on me
I wasn’t ready then
I’m ready now…searching for you
And you are gone
Without a word
You knew that, the cancer eating away the physical body that confined you
You died…leaving me to wander the road you have paved
Alone in my solitude
Ahhh…you teach one last lesson
Whispers of a Soul
(Young Woman On The Shore, Edvard Munch, 1896)
Whispers of a Soul
Sacred prayers
Longings of the heart screeching across the cosmos
Hidden beyond the darkness
Lost in realms of conscious reality
No one is listening; no one can hear
Only the shadows know the truth
Does his soul hear the calls of my sorrow?
Why must one bear the burden of knowing
While others live life blissfully ignorant?
There is no God of mercy, of love
For He would not want one to suffer such torment
Or leave one to such inevitable longing
Is destiny so destined?
Or are there interceptions–a chance of one’s fate
Where whispers are heard
A Poet’s Remorse
(The Lovers, Charles Hawthorne, circa 1900’s)
A Poet’s Remorse
In between
The words
I write
My messages
Of love
And desire
Ever wanting
Always needing
Loneliness mine
A truth
Not known
A memory
Now lost
Two lovers
Forever searching
A Highland Warrior
(Wandering Shadows, Peter Graham, 1878)
A Highland Warrior
I dream of Scotland…
Glens and hills, peat and moss
A man belonging to the land as the soil beneath his feet
Rugged and rocky, nothing weak survives
The whipping wind thrashing his hair
Warning him of old man winter arriving at the hems of his skirt
Survival is not an option, for he does not know the luxury but to live and die
Warrior against warrior, clan against clan
Tides of the righteous binding the two in no man’s land
God’s will the destiny of his fate; barely a purpose of existence
I wonder as I dream, the black hills haunting my memory of what once was
A fur-clad figure standing firm atop the granite ledge, the green glen below taunting:
“Come hither. Lay within my arms and look upon the glories of the heavens.
Breathe in and feel the stir of life. Know of something more you cannot taste.”
Looking down upon the land that does not embrace him, nor anyone
The purpose of humanity lost as it passes from him to the next with bludgeoned blows
Withering ashes for the heather that blooms spring after spring, year after year
His life haunts me to remember…reminding me of a soul unfinished
