Pause, and calmly think on that.
In the dark I can see, reflected, weaving and waving, in this blessed early morning moment, the firelight in your eyes. Your lips, full, pained, hurt, whisper out an injured stream, while I memorize your eyes, and the mirrored flame of your soul. And I am struck dumb, feeble words wretch forth, anguished to see…
Anaverse for this February Twenty-ninth Four years have passed since the day that never was and I find myself here again, in this unwanted moment, this day that never belonged, this February Twenty-ninth I was running that year full strength, head strong hurtling right off the edge where I remain, still. Sick now, pained now,…
A Clear Sky A clear sky above thee A night sky beckons me To recall again Your name upon my lips Bright points shining in space In constellations across the black they race Beautiful magnificence Your name upon my lips Crisp and clear cold nights air Revives and refreshes all that is fair Breath taken,…
In this smile, this beautiful creation, joy bursts forth from the form of her comely curves. From lush strokes of warm pink she speaks harmony into the world. Her song fills this place.
The fourth year is a dead, dry sea of shifting sands. Each week is a new staggering climb to crest a new mountain of sand, to be greeted again by another vicious valley and one more dead, dry sea of shifting sands.
In my mind, I have this picture of you. You’re in a crowd, deluged in an ocean of nameless people. But you’re not lost in them. In the middle of a sea of grey, featureless forms, you stand out in fierce, vibrant, individual, radiant beauty. You’re the only one I can see.
In this picture, rustic wood framed, there walk one set of steps, with unsure aim. Within crafted wood, blue can be seen nearly filling the place, cold, sad, serene.
In this brush, quarks flip topsy-turvy, up and down, top to bottom, charming strange electrons and protons to smash together in orbital attraction, while excited gluons carry chaotic forces. In this brush, a quantum world explodes, rockets skyward shattering every stratosphere in its path, and lays bear a crescendo of crashing realities.
In this blue, slate blue, I lay me down my heart. Lost and bewildered am I in this beautiful hue. Here, in this blue, is where I find myself, because I find you.
In this hour, I awake to find you awake. I’ve seen you here before, but not from this place. It seems fitting then that I have lost mine. In this hour, even this hour, I know His hand is at work. Out late, up late, I don’t know which – but concern, and troubling jealously,…