separation is a myth
a made up story
by a closed imagination.

1
Tidal grief
Wore granite
To grain

Vapour plume
Sprays as Spirit
Does

Soaring-

Ether and never
So close together

2
Angels may climb
A ladder to
Greatness-

For others

Self soaks wings
With oil
And sinks
Back
Through soil-

Heaven/Hell
All spoil

Intoxication of the bee

Dancing lavender
In the hive

my blue eyes
when deeply angered
(too often)

your blue eyes
when I’m dangerously close
to angering you
(too often)

my thin lips
when insulted beyond
my humor

your thin lips
when anyone is insulted

we are so different
and
yet, so similar

I am flesh
you are spirit
ensouled in flesh

my adamantine
is selfish
yours,
un

my path now
to follow
to learn the lesson
of adamantine being,
selflessly


c. 2023 Roberta Compton Rainwater

All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
  And the pleasure you fully pledge to.  
  
    Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.

I lay here in my own arms
Cradled by an absence
Petrified in obsidian

Into gently placed
Granite eyes
I waited for my heart to beat
But got nothing back in surprise

If  I could paint your sunrise
in the colours that you choose
trust me , I would
except I know
you haven’t paid quite enough
attention
to blue, yet.

The spiritual discourse was over, my soul felt so strong,
thought my mind was clear, but I was surely wrong,
But as I left the hall, rain poured with no remorse,
I cursed at life, as I walked back into the hall distraught,
I realised that my mind is a slave to the elements, not higher powers.

the Butterflies wings are raggedy
She makes her last flight-
into the East-
communing with the Sunrise-
becoming one.