Caught between opposing forces
a decision clenched in my hands
When the rock I see on my silk sheets
becomes my task
Entrapped
I can hear how few question morning
or so it seems
When I am resting on the angry seas
outside my grasp

A thorn buried in the middle
disappears into air
again and again
Painting a lonely sensation
found by willing hands
Breath traded when my Rome fell
forgotten in time’s indifference
Small guarantees left bearing
a yielding finger’s friends

Anticipated territory knows not what is nursed
inside of emotions
Stillness feels shame
too late for fortune’s spinning wheel
Caught between opposing forces
measured by man’s own fire
I find I have come back to feed
on the emptiness I feel

The rock I see on my silk sheets
is the first bite I swallow
My own hands
will find this thorn buried in the middle
One by one I will conquer
what clings inside my thoughts
Until these opposing forces
hand over
my acquittal

Who else could possibly understand me the way you do?  You read me as if you wrote the book of who I am. Despite the fact, sometimes I travel where darkness presses against the sun, laying down nothing when morning warms the sweetness of life.  

On those days, when time casually says I am crazy and wraps around in streams that haunt me with a quaint imprisonment, your smile moves through me in a delightful pleasure, caressing my face with your ways.

Sometimes I sit with my heart resting on the winds of pain and sorrow, lighting up fear and anger in never ending skies.  You wait, because you know just what to do, standing silent, by my side.

Who else could possibly understand me the way you do?  When it rains, you never try to change the air I breathe.  When my sun is eclipsed by clouds of time and space, you never deny me the chance to stand with my eyes closed, until I am brave enough to open them and see.

You read me as if you wrote the book of who I am.  As time passes, I see that what is unsaid, stares back with a message that arrives on golden wings. No one else understands me the way you do.  Your fingers turn the pages of my soul, as if you wrote the book of me.

What began as a trickle moved forward into what can never be forgotten
Flying into hearts and souls as faces, with mysteries that unfold
Holding one another in winds conveying what they feel
Falling to fit inside a claim, heaven must uphold

Hands move through walls of water, beckoning want inside two bodies
Moments hold complexities until all thoughts they feel as one
Sighs strip the cloth away, revealing their tomorrows
Paradise comes in waves, loneliness is undone

Storms of contemplation feel life racing to repeat the steps they know
As their fingers dance on unmade plans with places still to go
Gentle touches brush the grounds of want and need
Forward into now, love's willingness exposed

Shadows of these days will always linger in their souls leaving colors
Surrounding the breezes capturing love's attention waiting
What once began as a trickle cannot be left behind
Arms outstretched, love's river anticipating

Forgive me when lightning plays on the keys of your sorrow
and there is no time for everything you say
to be laid here at my feet.
Still, know that I am here when your inner light
of wisdom catches dust on the frame of your heartbeat
and I will listen through your tears.

On those days when life feels like a flying bird,
do not feel sorry for reaching out
to enlightenment as your lover, please know,
that I understand your need.

There are miles of bedlam that I would love to turn into flowers
on those nights when your sea tumbles restlessly
and those dragons of madness make you burn
the sticks of your destiny.
Instead, I will hold you in my heart
so that you can hear it beat for you,
a breath apart and still the same.
We will drown our souls together
in our own tranquility.

When you hear the call of honor weeping to the heavens above
while leaves of scorn fall upon your head,
I will stand beside you
help you roll away
what stands in front of you.

Let me be the force that drives you from the shadows
of all heartache,
when lightning plays on the keys
of your sorrow.  Even though sometimes
there is no time for everything you say
to be laid here at my feet,
always know that my feet still remain here,
next to you.

My breath hung on the faintest touch,
loving deeply and unashamed.
I gave my soul's secrets to a heart glowing
with a desire to see the gentleness of life
through an obsidian whisper of glass.
A heart that savored heights of happiness
within vibrating rings issued from a sword's blade.

I deeply treasured my appointment within the circular maze of this love
while simultaneously reading the prints
that it left upon my soul.
They were the color my mind dreamed in,
wondrously prompting warm flames for me to fall into.

Phrases walked into places never been before, curving their fingers
around the notes that played the tune of my emotions,
then danced upon pure clouds of captivation.
Unknowingly they created a celestial answer
for these eyes filled with grief.

I am moved as I remember waiting for my skin to be touched
in places where alone had marked complaints
here and there upon my hours.
When ribbons of truth gave passage
my mouth unfolded in a smile that connected
passionately with your own.

He tore himself apart for breakfast until he resembled the seasons that were running down the unimportant streets of silence.  
Hoping for an endless meal because he was afraid he had seen this all before and was simply famished.

A creature observed the return of a shower of attention and suddenly found itself hiding in the back of his kitchen, while silence took the risk of creating fireworks in both their minds.

Ice-water peered cautiously over the rim of his glass as it gathered as if waiting for back up, with an agitation that was all too familiar it called out in a voice that toppled over the realization that it was permanently trapped.

A tangle of small wonder that called itself understanding did not trust the voices of time as they had become wildly deformed and held onto the same chill as the glass that stared back with no apology.  

The next instant brought a sudden end that urgently painted torrents of strange confusion into everything else. Yet when he asked what had happened the creature played hell for a couple of minutes as it staggered backwards into two seconds ago.

He swung around looking in the back of his kitchen for advice, deeply troubled as ice-water seemed to form in his veins.  He existed by nourishing himself with his own feelings and yet was still hungry.  The creature knew as it watched him advance to the back of his kitchen that the man’s hunger had not been appeased.  

The creature cringed with the same fear as the ice-water peering over the rim of his glass knowing it was trapped.  It watched as he advanced to take his next bite with eyes as cold as the glass where the ice-water was trapped.

Nourishment was at hand within the feelings of the creature……as he closed in I realized the creature in the back of his kitchen, was me.

© 2011 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm

I have wandered into an amazing sight, with movement at will
Lying behind a long sleep of my pure listening breath
Clouds break forth that were once charming
In all their melancholy words of patterned distress

Much kinder skies press lightly against the chest of my spirit
Life encased in silken petals, exiled now from grief
Just to know the touch of a healing heart
Has become home to rushing waters that seeped

I sit in a room containing a subtle touch of my future dreams
That I believed did not exist outside of mere images
Are they apparitions that dare lie to me now
Come to lick my wounds with beckoning messages

Sweet joy scatters where cold arrows of fragility once flew
Amid numberless embraces introduced with care
Shining on ripples of pain, bringing change
Into the one breathing space where I now stare

Now I stand inside a circle of stones with my eyes closed
Surrounded by possibilities with qualities that spin
I am now quickly approaching faith anew
Inspiration to step outside this room once again