Encased castles wouldn’t hear
what might have been
or a promise of immediate loss.  
When thank you becomes like raindrops
falling from the cost.

So I will say
the sun forever rises
because it was torn away
from the bones of an amber moon.
Until the day my face is woven
into what is mine, just not too soon.

Just think about what you do
when you want to be alone,
of course not because
you are broken.  
Let it go and become framed
with the tears of a family unspoken.

Reflect what is understood
and let it go
like a language of chills
contained in every second of surprise.
Then thunder from those encased castles
can be seen in my eyes.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Flores Varga-Changefulstorm

When we look at what is already spoken,
the words cannot live
if contained.
Hope becomes all we want
as our souls become awake
in air unstained.  

If we stop and count the words
they become elusive
and still hours later
we remain unconscious.  As if we are asleep
exhaling each fragment
unresponsive.

Can we wear our heart on the sleeve
of our emotions
to keep our body warm and moving?  
When do we realize
where the point of here
is beyond that which is soothing?

If we talk about that which we love
giving our full attention
to each dream as it exists.
Would our laughter
become a shade of secrets
or a storm of words wrapped as a gift?

Copyright @2015 - Neva Varga - Changefulstorm

We need not count on fate
on the battlefield
where windows reflect our dreams
when we find ourselves crawling
as we laugh.  
It is merely an invasion
from which I will not flee
no matter how hot
I find the essence
stained by my other half.  

Life’s best moments
will not make you famous
so don’t be anxious
or make empty promises
to a world
which remains the same.
Stay weightless
within your spirit
and keep the salted seas
from turning you bitter,
left behind….
in shame.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Varga - Changefulstorm - 09/28/15

Steady streams of reflections
kiss my weaknesses
and speak to all my struggles
dancing like leaves in the back of my mind.  
While the scent of happiness
breaks my heart
on unseen mountains
I attempt to climb.

Empty time of the whitest sand
keeps me awake
and runs with arrogance
across the stones of all my questions.
Still….I won’t say
what calls to my world,
or breathe a word, when you delight
in your burning suggestions.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Varga - Changefulstorm

Who paints the world with sunshine
and whispers louder
that which matters,
with whirling streaks of hope?  
When I am spinning round
with speaking eyes
for unexpected hours.  
Feeling alone………..
as an unspeaking ghost.

I wait with a passion
and a fire inside.
Lit by a precious brilliance
with a smile of wonder
on my face.  
Until your light paints my hands
which ache……
my heart beats to claim
your ever saving grace.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm

Our hearts skip a beat
when fed with the delusion
that we have time in this world
to possess.  
Like a child
we think we own the burning flame
of the candle
standing with no attention
to arrest.  
We are content to be lured in every season
And still yet,
the skies of ourselves
never rests.

We keep our eyes closed,
looking for some other way
to find
everything there is.
Irrespective
of how the sun holds our hands.  
Still,  gently we leave in place
an ache
that prepares us
for the broken windows in our lives
to be like feathers  
with a present
of living free
without demands.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Flores-Smith - Changefulstorm

In the warmth of my emotions
written words are weighed
for someone new.  
They listen for something more
than this poet ever found
in that intricate box of you.

Nothing keeps me from smiling
at a single breath
of that which I love more.
When I feel those morning winds
brush across my words
of unknown shores.

I’m a moment
carrying a brilliant idea
with a voice soft as petals falling.
Listen to my poetry come alive inside
the empty space
of your heart’s calling.

Your eyes sing the words
I wrote for you
each time a tear rolls down your face.  
Your poet sifted the sands of time,
written words
have been erased.

Copyright @2015 - Neva Flores Smith - Changefulstorm
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