“Oceans Above Venus”

by AR Combs

There are oceans—
a thousand crystal oceans—
above Venus and her moons,
swimming in constellations,
an endless orange stream
of stars and angels,
falling like rain,
dripping like prayer,
soaking our old home.

So dance with me—close—
upon our red rooftop.
Let’s breathe the slow breeze,
as moonlight unites the oceans in the sky
and washes over the Brazilian seashore;

for it heals
the soul
of the green earth.

All the old sycamores,
the owls, the hawks,
even the snakes—
they run now,
chasing their existence.

So hold on—
onto my words
like your wedding ring.
Let me hold you close.

For in the quiet, broken night,
I can feel your heartbeat,
your emotions
running like rivers.
Let me hear the rhythm of your desires,
the pulse of your dreams,
the flame of your waiting ambition.

Let this—
let this moment
separate you from fear,
as I listen to the drums
of your heart—
here.

Take my hand.

Let my voice
unlock creation,
echo in the languages
of your dreams and desires—
for how I do love you.

Now see—
the moonlight rules the stars,
painting grace
into the silence.

And just so,
in that power,
like a crowned king,
I listen.

And I will open—
I will unlock
the waves of your dreams.

“Yes, I Remember”
Eve’s reply

I remember
the hush before morning,
the song that moved beneath the soil.

I remember
how your voice shaped the air—
not with words, but with warmth,
and how the stars bowed
when you whispered my name.

Yes,
I remember the garden.

Where roses knew my fingers,
and peace had no need to hide.
Where even dragons sang lullabies,
and the doves were unafraid.

I remember how your hands
held the wind still—
how the sky turned when you danced,
and I, barefoot, followed.

But I forgot.
Somewhere between sorrow and shadow,
I forgot.

The thorns grew thick.
The rivers ran backwards.
My heart…
it cracked like dry clay,
aching for the dew.

But still—
even in exile,
I heard your breath.
Even in silence,
I felt your echo.

You never let go.

And now,
in the hush between worlds,
you call me to dance again.

Yes,
I see it now—
the four rivers, the red cedar,
the rock where we laughed,
where we wept,
where we kissed the dust
and made it holy.

So take my hand,
my Love,
my Maker,
my Memory.

Let me believe again.

Let us return,
not as children this time,
but as warriors of wonder,
wrapped in grace.

Let us name the stars together
before they fall.

Let us dance
in the garden again.

I trust you.
I remember.
I am yours.

On High

This song, my love—
may it pierce your heart like silver-moon earrings,
the pair I clasped beneath your hair.
Close your eyes now,
and let me lift you—
let me hold you on high,
let me hold you on high.

Out where Kansas wheat outshines the stars,
we’ll tread those golden oceans;
and even if forgiveness falters,
my heart will still rise, wide and free, to love you.

Over and over—over and over—
red Georgia peaches, warm on the tongue,
Florida beaches, wave upon wave:
I’ll write you a new refrain
to carry us home, to sweep us clean,
while diamonds at dusk
wait patient on the shore.

So let Chicago’s sunrise blaze you back to life—
let dawn’s red hymn baptize your dreaming eyes.
Then breathe me in, cling tight,
like a California midnight that swears
the night is ours alone.
As sure as the ring on your finger,
let this moment be—
a hush held only by you and me.

And if your heart grows hard,
let us return to one—
let me rest again where the silver crescents shine.
Let me hold you on high,
let me hold you on high.

Let Us Dance
By A.R. Combs

My love,
tonight the world is hushed in wonder—
and the zephyr winds sing your name,
soft as silk through the trees.
The stars—oh, the stars—
sparkle like the jewels that once kissed your ears,
while the White Mountains shimmer
like a memory too precious to hold.

Come closer.
Feel the hush between our fingers,
where the wind lingers gently—
and on this quiet balcony,
let us dance.

Above us, the heavens are blooming—
a thousand silver streams,
ribbons of prayer and crystal air
spilling into the Milky Way.
Below the soft fire of Christmas lights,
beneath blue star-rivers,
let us sway like moon shadows,
and spin like time made of light.

Dreams rise on the breath of night,
but time—time falls fast,
and fear moves slow.
Let your worries slip from your ankles like silk,
let the fire of your fear
twirl and burn beneath your steps.
For the world sleeps now,
craving color in their dreams,
and we are still awake.

Let your hair fall like a midnight cascade,
and let your perfume
wrap itself around the flames of your heart.
Taste the night.
Spin with starlight.
Let the steel-blue sky
break and fall like silver rain around you.

Dance, my wild beloved—
dance like a songbird too full of joy to keep still.

Dance with me
until our shadows join the skyline,
until our laughter becomes the wind,
and the rhythm of our dreams
is all that remains.

There in the color of the stars, I found you beneath the blue skyline,
under the icy wind of my warm tired prayers, desiring your spirit alone.

In the garden of memories, we began so well.
The Coca-Cola wonders, the Yamaha thunder ride into the sunset,
The thousands of people in Texas-sized arena, where you stood like a princess with laughter, standing in white, standing with me,

nothing could take you away.

But years after years, the warmth of your hands,
started to bring memories of grief, the candle of your heart,
I held so carefully, only burned me - continually.
Even my prayers betrayed me -
the colors of stars turned only darker yellow
And when I waited for season of grace - I only was left with dances of eggshells, fire, brimstone, and smaller gifts and compliments.

In my endless love, I know if we wander,
it's not always lost, but times like these
make the bridge between your heart and mine,
just a wall - of monstrous cactus, locusts, - just orbs of sorrow,

only sadness and pain I feel.

As soon as I step away, the planets seem to align, and
my prayers start to feel like home again.
And the silver necklace you gave me, becomes like a compass,
things go well, I find meaning and peace.

From these wintry nights or darker days -
from a broken heart, we both can be mended - I do know.  

I hope you find me in the colors of the stars, in the speed of its gravity and

maybe

I can find you in the silver garden of memories,
when you love yourself again, and
walk long enough around your red beautiful home,

and if you are searching, and asking
you can find me in the map of galaxies,

between you and I,

In the decades of light,

In all our prayers,
in my dark brown eyes.

Golden skies and grass greens,
ribbons and threads and legacies,
heavens and harlots, power and age.
It's all flames in the end, isn't it?
All words, all swords, fall so, perfectly.

And like a cancer, you can eat the cigarettes' so sweetly,
all the champagne flowing so freely,
And when we wait for our Paris.

Life makes you intoa a creatures below, surprisingly like mosquito in summer
eating in the garden of fire, to live happily.

It's all smokes and shadows tomorrow,
and it falls like a cold shaped drink, like a dollar
swinging, settling, hoping to be taller, but falling
in our hangover and faded like-memories
in the black morning, of anxiety and sorrow.

Just eating in the garden of fire,
dragons, vampires, pirates and scabies.
All from a broken shaped bottle with ***** like choices,
liars of empires, sweats of angels and children,
it all flames in the end, in the garden of fire, isn't it?

But when the wind turns north,
will you turn and know, when the rich
and the wicked find no more?

If we slowly find the money isn't the answer to all things,
and the battles, bills, and blessings don't become our idols
maybe eternity, will overflow, we can lie down in grass so green,
and like mountains, like kings, we will find happiness so free.

Surely in meadows and forests, witches and wickedness,
anger and bitterness, will be song so forgotten once we are so free.

We will eat the richest cheese, running into homes of orphans,
we can cause them to be such kings, alive and well and so happy.

Before the end truly comes, in time and reason, a new healing,
king and throne, with eyes so weary, knees and backs so heavy,
we will remember, like a song so catchy, a life set free.

R iver of silver blues, like a catch I found you, all the way here.
O h, how perfect your personality & painting,
- but how shortly & beautifully, you appeared.
M emories after memories, from cruise ships to eatery,
A nd like a good scenery, I remember your paintings,
N ever, have I felt so smitten by the accidents of life, but
A lso said so well, like a graven image of time,
    - "These are why moments are made so precious & divine."