Last night I melted into you -
Didn't I?

It felt like an eternity
It felt like a river flowing
Into an intense tranquility

Uncertainty tries to
unhing my sanity
But I know what I know
To be true
I flowed into you
Until we became one
And for once -
I didn't feel a lone

Because I knew -
I knew this is where
I belonged.

-

maybe it's the idea of you that has my
stomach churning and
my cheeks blushing
and my heart
smiling.

What control do I hold over the near light?
With a turn of a dial I can lower its brightness.
Dimming until closed dark covers this living room.
Although not much living is done in this room.
Not much of anything is done in the dark.
But the Singing.
Yes, the singing of an old song forgot.
When lost upon dark waters
This song becomes an anchor.
The last tangible connection from here to the near light.
I realise now I am not alone.
There is an Other here that does the singing.
An old friend.
The haunting melody pulls me deeper into the sea of black.
Back against the wall, back again the listener.
I thought I was better.
I thought I was in control
But control is a cruel illusion.
A foolish desire that can not be meet despite best efforts.
For it is easy to blow out the candle than it is to reignite the flame in darkness.
I have blown out the candle in a perverse attempt to show the control I never possessed.
So I relinquished the idea of control
Give myself to the darkness and her melody. 
My last thoughts centred on the near light before
- finally -
the closed dark put my light out.
Slowly, my consciousness disparates
And I am lost into the ether.

They don't understand the draw,
The need to put thoughts to paper,
The drive to create flowing words and lines.

They'll never know the feeling,
The way the heart is lifted by the script,
The joy that comes from writing.
But we do.

We know how it feels to lay bare our hearts,
To have our lives become the words.
We are poets who need
To be Poetry.

The first sip of a coffee on a frosty morning
Toss and turn from your yearning
Lost upon years of searching in the Arctic
Following the trail up north

The snow has stopped, temperatures dropped.
Despair not and regret not
that cigarette had to stay warm
All you have are smoke kisses in the air
Or is that just your cold breath?
The only sign of life seen in days

Mind you, the sparrow is like no other
Flying against the wind
Three hundred miles away
And we're having a similar day
Me tethered to this place
While your pace slows with tired feathers

I'm not holding out for something better
These boots still have another year or two to go
Wear and tear occur slowly when one is rooted to the ground
My roots frozen limbs searching still.

And the night falls heavy now
and I am well acquainted with it
For in the winter's darkest hours
Is where my searching will end.

For what an electric winter -
those sparks like whispers in your ears
To pull archaic splinters from your side -
And let them blow in the Arctic winds -
And up to celestial lights -
burning bright bitter blues -
and emeralds and yellows -
and higher still -
breaking Heaven's inner dome -
- higher -  
Ethereal particles of you displayed across the night sky -

And you are a singular multitude
A particular spectacular
Of particles participating
In the dance.

I found no Polaris during the Polar Night.
But a sighting of the famed lights.

Eyes opened and I can see clearly what you are.