This is the cardiac line.
Your first stop is the
left atrium.
Passengers alight here for warmth and passion.
Please have your tickets ready worn on your sleeve.
We apologise for any delays. This was due to mixed signals.
You are in coach one of four.
Mind the gap between the heart and common sense.

There is a bridge
built between the
isle of me and you

Seperation of the soul
and heart

The bridge is classified
as a historical landmark

Consecrating our love
that stood tall-
and did not fall

Throughout the years,
of historical architecture

It is constructed of
celestial materials
Unbreakable in the
hands of man

There- Underneath
the bridge a current
flows
An infinite supply
of water
That never submerges
nor erodes

The sacred bridge between
his soul and mine

In the middle of it-
Stood statues and columns
symbolizing the ancient
roots of our eternal love

But there was no boat,
that had ever sailed the
rocky harsh currents below

It was unbreakable-
The water was rough
to bear
Regardless, our love
was rare.
It is the fleeting waves
and thunderstorms
Beneath nights clear air.

Violently gravitating
one another closer
and closer throughout
the years

The moments in time
were disappearing
Rapidly dissipating into
the watery depths of the sea

In this lifetime I fear-
We will never meet

Our compasses have
been broken
And I feel the bridge is
drifting out of sight

The constant I have found-
Is our love will never die
Our bridge will never fall

Love is in us all along
Forever young
Growing strong
© 2014 Christina Jackson

~

A crescent moon now overhead
As I come rising from my bed
Remembering the words I said
A few short hours ago
~
Like linens hanging on the line
The clouds a comfort for my eyes
In secrets whispered on the skies
Along with breezes flow
~
I wonder of this time apart
As longings cling so tight my heart
In gilded frame like precious art
The sun comes into view
~
When then my open eyes can see
The man that I can surely be
If only you would come to me
Whatever I must do
~
With endless trees and hills to climb
My aches, my pains on borrowed time
The distant church bells set to chime
The miles in between
~
I follow on in destined task
Is it too much for me to ask
Within your arms I long to bask
If you know what I mean
~
To stumble on the crooked path
And weep these tears of aftermath
For comes the heat of summer wrath
In everything so new
~
I wander here and wander there
In hopes to show you that I care
With you my dreams I long to share
Until my days are through

and unwritten.

The key to the lock
to the door to the room
with the chest that encases
your heart

is buried just off
the Nā Pali Coast
in the sands of the
Pacific.