I've pondered all the dreams that heaven sent me,
and wandered far away to find my home;
It seems my mind is taking me through darkness,
but never do I fear I'll be alone.

The world is such a wonder to behold,
it casts a giant shadow but still remains;
A window to our hearts and souls together,
where nothing fails when hopefulness is gained.

I can feel the tender grasp of windswept rain,
showering me with gems of universal calm;
The sweetness of the water shines within me,
for outside its softness clings like a gentle balm.

Alone I've been--yet never, ever wanting,
for material things which many have desired;
For my walk through life has always been a pleasure,
while inside my bones there burns a raging fire.

It stirs my steady focus through the quandaries,
and the boundaries set by those who stake their claims;
Wilder than the beasts that live among us,
are scores of spiritual yearnings which remain.

Burning high above the clouds,
a late-summer moon on display;
Warns us that our days are few,
'till the solstice will fly away.

In August the moon is wistful,
despite its white hot light;
Reminding us that Autumn's near,
leaving behind a summer's delight.

The nights are still warm and balmy,
as we lie upon the golden sands;
And count the rings around the moon,
while cuddling, hand in hand.

The moon shares all its secrets,
of enduring love and bright romance;
This August moon defines our feelings,
and leads us toward our wedding dance !

I've spent so many hours in this room,
my mother's private place to rest;
She'd read, write, and drink coffee alone,
it gave her time to be at her best.

I know how much she adored her spot,
a cozy chair sitting by the window;
Where she could observe Nature's Glory,
the snow, the rain, the sun's magic glow.

It seemed to inspire her inner self,
the one who was truly literate and wise;
She'd light a cigarette and wistfully recall,
the moments which lingered within her sighs.

Mother's intellect was greatly admired,
as a librarian she was both kind and helpful;
Thank goodness she was always our mentor,
as we struggled with our assignments from school.

This tiny room was her only refuge,
from the noise and chaos of a large clan;
I close my eyes to see her in that chair,
for this is where living and learning began.

Colder and wetter the evening grew,
with bouts of rain sweeping through;
In darkness were all the colors of night,
an opalescent gleam came into sight.

Worrisome thoughts ruminating still,
I tried to shake off the wintry chill;
Wrapped up inside a blanket of red,
while sitting at the edge of my bed.

The hallway echoed the sounds of fear,
I knew that the end could soon be near;
Fragile and weak my hands gripped tight,
as a child I was always afraid of the night.

I reached for a candle to light my way,
toward the bay window in sheets of gray;
One bolt of lightning disrupted my mind,
I prayed to the Lord that He be most kind.

Suddenly I awakened with sweaty palms,
the room was tranquil with an eerie calm;
Had it been a nightmare that followed me home,
or a memory of childhood when left alone ?

God spared me one more frightening event,
it seemed like this peace was heaven-sent;
An angel must have heard my fervent pleas,
So I dropped to the floor--on grateful knees.

The morning casts its light on us,
as we awaken to a brand new day;
You touch my hand and smile sweetly,
I sigh and kiss your shining face.

Tucked under cotton sheets we play,
our game of love 'till we're renewed;
Then gratefully rest upon our hearts,
as time arouses us--right on cue.

How generous is the spiritual life,
the soulful and sensual sights and sounds;
In silence they cast a shadow of faith,
caressing each moment--honor bound.

For love is always something soft,
gently rocking us through the ages;
And quietly whispers blessed words,
from the glow of our story's pages.

Through your vision of lightness,
a miracle glows with brightness;
A collection of hearts define it,
reminding you who's behind it.

A ladder leads up to the sky,
you climb it as if you can fly;
Yet this face is a mere illusion,
so why deal with such confusion ?

Gone away in cloudless moments,
still haunting your memory's torments;
Of pain recalled from past times,
soon erased with poems that rhyme.

And all along this path to glory,
that measures a worthless story;
The face becomes an invisible token,
of fragile words no longer spoken.