He didn't know where he stood
I'm walking backwards on a tightrope
Upside down and around
I asked
Can I stand with you?
I'll be your
Strength
Home
Bravery
We could stand with the stars and the moon
I knew where he was all along

What if we cannot see?

The bluest of skies;

the clearest of seas.

The beauty around us

no-one to appreciate its majesty.

What if we cannot taste?

The lips of the one we love

The fresh air, blowing freely.

Or the food and drink provided by the earth

to keep us from the finality of death.

What if we cannot feel?

The one one we hold most dear;

who holds our heart with theirs.

Or to feel the warmth of a fire,

pleasant on our uncovered skin.

What if we cannot smell?

The scent of a flower in full bloom;

It’s aroma intoxicating and sweet.

Or the smells of our home we miss

whenever we are not there.

What if we cannot hear?

The sound of cleansing rain on the window

or the music that speaks to our every being.

Or the sound of a newborn baby

crying for it’s mother.

What if the meaning of life is our senses?

To See.

To Taste.

To Feel.

To Hear.

To Smell.

Would life be worth living,

if we cannot experience it fully?

The intricacies of life all around;

no-one could appreciate them,

how truly perfect they are.

What if we were never born with them?

It’s hard to miss something

you never had to begin with.

So for those who haven’t experienced these sensations.

Life is still worth living.

What if this life is false?

Reality isn’t what it seems?

What if this is all just a dream

and we don’t know any differently?

What if we were never born at all?

It seems as though
I always want to talk to you
But our conversation comes at a cost
Because every word spoken
Puts me one word closer
To the last words I'll ever say to you.

With hope I could forever speak
With reason and love aimed at your heart
Taking your ears and making them listen
To what I need you to hear
Before you cannot hear anymore.

Carefully I select the sounds I speak
As not to choose the wrong ones
Picking silently in my head
The memories I would like to leave behind
In every moment I spend with you.

I know the last words I will say to you.
They are in my head now
Dancing on my lips
Teasing your ears
But I will not say them.
Not now.
Instead,
I will say them when it is time
For them to be true.

I do hope, however, that when that time comes
You will have already said them
To me.

What would I do for you?  There's lots of things, actually


I would spontaneously start speaking Hungarian for you...but it probably would sound like nonsense

and some Hungarian dude

   Would be all like "Haver, nem beszél magyarul"

        I would shrug, because
        
              I don't know Hungarian...

But I'd still do it for you, if you wanted me to.



I would fly us to ancient Mayan burial grounds, where we could

   Learn all about a lost culture

           We would run into a cursed
                
                   Mayan Chief, but he'd actually be pretty cool
          
              He would teach us how to do a rain dance,

         Every once in awhile he'd look at you and say "kíichpan"
  
   and I'd be like..."Dude, back off..."

                       He's like 2000 years old...
                                
                         ­    He's way too old for you.



I would carve you an Ice Sculpture in your likeness

        Taking care to make sure that every detail was perfect and reflected
          
            Your beauty
              
               In every possible way.

     I'm not too good at Ice Sculpting, though, so it might just end up looking
              
            Like an oddly-shaped block of ice.


      Sorry...

            I hope you would like it anyway



For you, I would count to infinity

     Which might not sound like a feat, at first

   But then I would count back to zero

  I'm pretty sure no one's done that before....

     I won't be able to do it all in one day

So it might take awhile...

                  Hope you don't mind waiting for me




    I would write poetry every day for you


            Because I know that I would never run out of things
  
       To write about







....Well, maybe every 'other' day.

An elephant graveyard
rests, etched on my TV
as I listen to the howl
echoing from outside
the window. Grabbing
my rifle filled with pellets
I stride outside to face it.

Adrenaline clouds my vision
as this monster of an animal,
this beast of a creature
glares at me. With his flesh
thirsty fangs, drooling
with spit. Ready to rip
me apart and bury the bones.
It growls with want
as it shakes the sick dust
from its mangy coat.
Hair hanging off his skin
like the dead clothing
from its past prey.
Cracking my petrified bones
I fall to my knee
and pump after pump
I prepare my weapon.
With fingers dancing their way
to the ready trigger, I hold
my aim. Steady. Breathing.
Pull. I release my breath
as the gun exhales a shot
into the body of the beast.

A cry shoots out
from the pounding heart
of this whimpering animal.
And as I watch
with regret tumbling
down my cheek. The dog
stumbles off
into the shadowing forest
so that I will never
shoot it again.

Seconds seem like ages,
But hours are so short.

Time passes slowly
But it all ends so fast

Hearts beat,
Leaves fall.

Wind blows
Shivers run.

Heart stops
Tears fall

Memories left
A ghost to recall.

I am made up of an entire soul
Completely furnished with potential and with life.
That can love with a love that love has not imagined.
And I have thoughts that rage on like the rain beats against a window in the dead of February.
As the rain greets the Valentine's on their way to their nights I listen to my heart
Beat.
Beat.
Beat against my chest.
The strings of the violin I left at the church play on and on like a love song barely out of tune.
As the G and the D and the A and the E tell me to go
From the church that's too far for me to visit after so much wine.
I might sleep.
I might do a lot of things.
I might even write poetry.
But one thing I'll certainly do is love
with a love that love cannot even fathom.
And my heart may beat out of my chest.
And my lungs may collapse.
But I will love
until my heartstrings tear apart with yearning.
And then I'll drink more wine and pretend.
I don't love anything at all when we all know
That's just not true.