In the silence and misunderstandings that separate us
I need to believe there is a place where we can meet
a place of mottled light where the only shadows
are painted by ancient firs who conspiratorially lean
open, welcoming hands down to greet us.

It is a place where all thoughts of judgment and jealousy
are simply too petty for consideration
love being implicit in the moisture of the air
words are unnecessary for our eyes reveal
everything we ever want to say.

Fear and resentment are unknown here
we refuse to recognize them if they slither
into this haven while we are sleeping
restful, innocent, unworried
history does not exist, the moment held is enough.

If this vision were dispelled, my soul could not sustain
reality’s weight.  I would be battered, fragile
as a spiraled whelk on deceptively smooth rocks
splintered by hate and unwillingness
to be as the sea, fluid and graceful, all encompassing.

Will you come with me here?  
Or is the hour too late?
We can meet in this hollow sacred space
and begin again, let loose misconceptions
clouding the life we share.          

The path is faint
trust your weary heart
it will lead us to each other.

You're still there,
At the end of my fingertips,
Your taste is still there teasing my tongue,
Your sweet face,
Haunts all my dreams,
Your beautiful heart still has its strings,
Wrapped around mine,
Tell me how to let you go,
When everything about you,
Is still living in my chest,
Crawling through the tunnels of my mind,
And leaving soft but painful bruises, on my soul