Something made me think of you
while on a late-night train
I suppressed a smile while by myself
I shouldn't think about you again
As we rattled into our first stop
I thought of our first kiss
the carriage was warm but lonely
like you, on the Dublin to Galway express
We trundled on to station two
you crowded my head once more
I reminisced on our second summer then
when you used come to my door
By the time we arrived at station three
my thoughts were bitter and shrill -
you'd taken my heart, I'd forgotten that part
and leaned in for the kill
Before my stop, the train broke down
and grinded to a halt,
giving me time to reflect on what I used call 'perfect'
things that are now, undoubtedly, faults
Once the train started up, my mind was clear
as a summer Sunday sky. I alighted the train,
as it moved on in the night,
that so had I.
Tired and worn
Discolored mix of gray whites and blues
Distressed laces that once kept it together
Are Left in thin shambles laying so weakly through each disfigured loop
The stories they have carried me through
Stories of pure joy and happiness
Stories of pure depression and tears
Unfortunately their last story has been completed
For they have tired and can travel no further without falling apart
In the wee hours of this darkened time
where most are fast asleep
I sit here wondering what must have been my crime
and why now must I weep
and feel this fear and dread that envelops me--?
And then inside my head and heart
it occurs so suddenly--
all of life is a journey, a challenge, a gift
and though sometimes it feels like a burden
somehow we must find a way to lift
our souls, our hearts up from the ground below
and walk forward with hope and love
that we surely are here to grow
and reach out and spread the joy and delight
that is available to us at all times--
even during the darkest of nights
and unsheathe our secret weapon we carry inside
it is the weapon of knowing and believing
that we're going to be able to ride
this wave and make the best
of whatever it brings our way
And with you right by my side--
we'll journey into another amazing, life filled day!
©Pamela Rae 03.25.2017
I don't need a poem written about me.
I mean, I could argue whether or not it's worth it to write about me. I am an original among billions of people but only so many people are going to get to know me. And fewer than that will want to talk about me or write about my life and how it affected theirs.
So really now, what is there to tell?
You can start with what event brought us together...
And end with how you think everything will work out.
I'm giving up my author status for a short time to let someone else tell this story.
Because right now, I need another opinion.
So I'll leave the paper here.
Write what you will.
And write with everything you've got.
Coming full circle
The sun’s coming up over
the snow clad ridgetops
its radiance ricochets
a glaring blindness
over the pillow top fog
blanketing the valley
below cascadia foothills
A sightless glimmer awakens
the dusty cobweb threads
probing nothing but the dreams
I’ve forgotten to remember
the memories of where I’ve come
this longest year’s journey
around the sun
The revelry in the sky scatters forth
like sown seeds of light
a blissful frolic dances gracefully
across the rolling cotton
beneath nascent blossoming
spring buttermilk blue skies
Aerial acrobatic shadows lilt
with the grace a butterfly ballet
there’s an uncommon harmony,
a spellbinding rite of spring
Violet-green swallows’ adorn the skyline
hypnotizing wild feather'd migrants
in elegant gliding waves of symmetry
magical skyway on the wing
unbroken circle ― back home
Fragrant Daphne wafts
teasing every sense of beheld lore
remembering the lingering ache
of the leaving
like poignant summer rain's
dried teardrop sullied stain;
embodied in loneliness,
the darkness of winter entropy
a beloved distant horizon left behind
Nature's inherent instinctual
lineage striving to return to begin
in the unbeknown hollow void
left to tarry in the wake
their nomadic departing flight
... it hurts so good to cry
the human tears of the returning,
the grateful teardrops of just being,
humbled by the true nature of will to be
Winsome love can find a way back ...
March 20th, 2017
(by happenstance the 1st day of spring 2017)...inspired by what i saw...continuum.
Circles may pause unbroken, and yet remain within, unspoken ―
however this is shared for all of us who struggle with winter,
yearning for love and light.
Thank you for reading,
March 24th, 2017
The longest day,
The deepest breath
You always knew me the best.
My second spring,
Without you here
I wonder who I'll be this year.
The greenest grass,
The bluest skies
I hide the ugliness of my insides.
The warmest sun,
Of a girl whom I'd like to know.
The longest day,
The deepest breath
I won't wait for you again.
The time is now,
No room to wait
Gaia dealt a brand new day.
May life on this earth carry you on its wings through its storm,
May it let you drift on its gentle breeze,
May it nurture you like a mother her child,
May it caress you like a lover holds another,
May it open your eyes to the beauty that is all around,
May it fulfil you, spreading through your body like the warm glow of the sun,
May it be yours, your adventure, your journey of freedom and unforgettable beauty,
May it let you grow, give you roots and allow you to fly,
May it show you how to dance in the rain and swim in the deepest Ocean,
May it let your heart find unconditional love, within itself, within another,
May it give you pure bliss, peaceful moments and an endless song of laugher,
May it be the journey that leaves the most colourful tattoos on your soul.
A warmth overcame the chill
in the softly lit room
It was as if, in a subtle and yet
breathless moment's pause ,
thoughts of love triumphed
The midnight oil flickered ;
shadows dancing teasingly
The playful flame drew life
near the drafty window sill ,
within the invisible current
its awakening ether sphere
The rocking chair breaks the silence
creaking to the unconformity
of the unsteady flash of light
bequeathed by the burning log's cinders
In the silence of the peaceful presence ,
one chunk of green heartwood sizzled
like a beckoning voice from another realm ,
sputtering out into the timbre's pace ;
into a wordless respite of hushed solace
Embers smoldering …
as if they were trapped
in an arresting instant
of purposeful awakening ;
striving to morph into
some unrealized reason for being
Just the serendipity of fate
in a human sense ...
In the right place
at the wrong time
seeking some benevolence of purpose ―
The glow of the fire’s luminosity,
tantalized the back-lit profile ,
painting it’s shadow a simple pendulum's
undulation on the opposite wall
A dark silhouette exhaled a deep sigh
with the throb of the dark night’s nuance
The chair’s bent oak runners groaned
while dove tailed oak joints squeaked
with an impatient restless tempo
An aura emanating a soothing ,
peaceful depth of reflection ;
expressions seldom understood
by those unwilling to look beyond
the seemingly nebulous colour
of dark light
Thoughts flash with the pulse a beating heart
Day dreams manifesting like cinema
on the four walls imprisoning loneliness
Life's reveries, a magnificent puzzle
even well into the long journey's epitaph ,
a reason to believe a moment's relevance
is more than randomness
dreaming good things can always happen ―
When you've looked for what seems missing ,
and never found it ,
ardently avowing ...
it does not mean it does not or can not exist
Still striving to foment faith
in the eternal dream of forever beginnings ...
Instead of finding your bliss
... let your bliss find you …
Time ain’t got no worries rolling out to sea
I could have kept my heart on hold forever
until there was nothing left of me" from: Its only water ― Gary Ogan