my emotions, ever present; continue, some linger creating a smile others invite weakness, which in time fades, as I press further into the day. the hope is still there, the daydreaming; visions of what could be, dancing before me. Although out of reach, there’s knowledge love belongs to many, and I’m grateful to have witnessed.
Driving the farthest eastern reaches of the Sandhills as this scene beckoned. Was it the water, sunset or hills calling names? The topography, a sensuous mastermind, plays within thoughts while memories flood the present.
How dare it.
Just as beauty sets in, and atop the already gorgeous scene, to share this – would have been the only cherished wish left to whisper. A hand held. Hard kiss, even tug of the hair and a reminding of the natural, even recommended design for an alliance.
Useless comes to mind, but doesn’t it always? Untrustworthy. Less than. Nothing deemed attractive found near not even near, by not just one, but from many.
Wicked is fate as she tosses over another just out of reach, if only the physical qualities found irresistible and encouraged were obtainable by another’s remnants. Would life continue to offer beauty with hopes someone might see?
this morning’s noises echo facts of summertime dwindling. a crow’s call to advance spur last night’s crickets, still rubbing within the window well. my heart swells with hope which confuses me, and the neighbor lady sweeps her deck.
you would know I’ve sat within the thrush of nature my soul is joyous there. this cool fall evening offers a melody and my mind plunges into creative fidgeting. my eyes wander from hues of verdant to hints of Autumn’s tangerine, but it’s the obvious sounds of industry that bring you closer to me.
To be left here, alone with thoughts, is a risk submitted to, but then doubt creeps in around me and one ponders if there is strength enough.
Yet, it is true. We’re made to endure.
Who do I think I am? Why do I think I matter? When did I decide I was more important than another?
To see beyond myself in order to rest my mind onto what will probably occur, is torture, I think. Why would I force myself into a mess before it’s time? Am I looking to intercede, possibly control or even wish the reality of the situation away?
No. I can’t imagine a life without.
What I need feels right inside. Am I wrong?
To want with all one could muster, yet sense it may never be, confines me.
I sense myself becoming that guarded individual I know all too well. Disappointment teaches and somehow I need to figure out how to grow.
To be open to the plan waiting for me.
I willingly prepare for my days ahead, and begin listening to words I’ve felt over and over recently.
Whispers in the depth of night
Whites of our eyes shining bright
Lips in movement
Words offer our reality
Conversing in shallow tunes
Touch, leaning into the heat of you
Expressing thoughts; gift to thee
Without fear, fate leads the he and she of our bonding.