And the heaviness
of my soul
lies with yours
in communion
in the darkest
passages of
the still crystal black
nighttime prayers
thrown out
             to the wind
as I reach out in
the most tender
              of frequencies
tendrils of purest love
to envelope you
what might
be unraveling
but hopefully not
and know
that I need you
like stones need
                  solid ground
like this pillar of strength
              needs her lifeline
not to be rescued
just to be loved
and seen with
the precious
luster
of your
very
      eyes

It's a good thing to believe in magic
Then your wishes can come true
When life is easy and each day new
Magic just adores to surprise you

It's a good thing to believe in love
To be certain your on your way
Nurture and care every single day
Love simply loves to shine her ray

It's a good thing to believe in peace
No need to ever war and fight
Watching over humanity with light
Peace will always help us to do right

Those little knowing glances took my breath away.
Even though I knew the there would be a price to pay.
They lifted up my soul and pulled the pieces together making me whole.
Its too bad that to you it was just a role.
They pulled a passion out of me that I didnt know existed.  
I could not resist it.
I spent days decorating my mind with images of you.
Now that your gone this place is just a cage, locked and there is no clock.
Because I know this has no end.
There is nothing left of me to mend.
I can feel an on coming flood.
Its mixed with my blood,
from where I tried to cut you out of my skin.
I am drowning in this ocean of sorrow.
Because I know for us there is no tomorrow.  
You were just a myth.
One I became obsessed with.
You caused an earthquake in my heart.
Painted my soul black with your art.
I ripped my wrists to shreds,
because I knew you were  in his bed.
All I knew was I wanted to be dead.
I cant erase what I read.
As I fade further away from you I seem to be tortured by thoughts of never wanting to forget to trying everything to never remember that dark December day.

.
mourning dove coos echo
across dawn’s dappled silence--

only these quiet pauses of breath
hush the dew droplets passive trickle

poignant traces of a solacing gravity
seep down through fogged portals,
cascading earthward from above

a symphony of pining pleas
from dew impearled wild feathers

a simple prayer of hope--

          to be held
in breathless warmth,

          in the amity                                                            ­                   .
of compassionate comfort,

       nestled intimately

beneath another’s assuaging wing


©  *wild is the wind