Stephan W

I have seen you there,
standing alone, along the shoreline
    --if you only knew--
Your thoughts- a poetic buffering,
spoken out- onto weathered paper,
through trembling hands;  words
let in to the ocean wind--
the dreams of your heart, the needs,
ah, yes.. the deep needs of your heart...

    among these rocks,
    you are always alone.
    ~

At the tip of your fingers-- the small ridges;
fragmental, yet monumental imprints, etched
in to you, the moment your spirit entered
your temple. They tell the world of your story:
through fine, texture-perception, you feel it--
your trembling fingers grip the pen, expressing,
conveying your truth into a world that does not
hear.. a shallowing, that deafens..

    You glance at your fingertips--
    to assure, you're really there
    ~ ~

(The sea has picked up a bit, now
the waves, crashing against the rocks
rocks, that still won't hear..)

And here also, outlined
within the warm beat of the
human heart,
there is a sound that can be heard--
one similar to the aliveness
of the crashing waves.
Place your fingertips against those
that are real-
the sound blends-in perfectly
with the sea
as the uniqueness of imprinted ridge,
moves up against that of the other--
contrasting, here.. fitting together
perfectly, there..

    Scream, "I am!" to the sea; and see, love..
    scream it out, and see.
    ~ ~ ~

I am everywhere near you-- encouraging,
celebrating.. at times, weeping;  hands
outstretched, the uniqueness of my
own finger prints, longing
Along this shoreline, I have watched you
for an eternity, hoping
that you might somehow take it all, in.
Clouds beckon, asking again for the
earth's moisture

      and I respond,  e v ap o r a t i ng.

      ~ ~ ~ ~

Your small, beautiful feet, now
all pigeon-toed- now, standing
at the water's edge; as the
rain cloud gives up its prize
just beyond the breakers--

    (my imprint remains,
    but I am of the sea now..)

    Wade into me, love
    that I may wrap myself around you:
    Along this shoreline,
    may you never be alone again.

As the sun navigates the sky
Ages will pass and time will come by
When the stars were shining, I was growing up
Responsibilities had settled in
And before I knew it,
I forgot about the stars

i'll enjoy the clouds until then,

rain falling on your cement,

seemingly harmless, until then,

your soul falls apart,

i'll find a new start,

forgetting the people we are.


[Part Two]

a good man forgets,

leaving a lifetime behind.

loving something else,

readjusting his eyes.

In time..

You will learn to forgive yourself..
for  all  the reasons  why
  you think you need
  to forgive yourself.

The blame,  and shame
placed in to you
was done  in the most  
horrendously unfair way..
when you were  at  such a
tenderly-young,  
and impressionable age.

It  was  your  v u l n e r a b i l i ty
that was so horribly cashed in on.
The greatest horror of all
was the shame and blame
that you were forced  to carry..

as if it was your own doing..


   It    Was    Not.

Beloved..

I wrote mine without even knowing that you had posted.
Everything that I do is so that ones like you  can finally
have a chance to feel the Beautiful dream

    firsthand..  on the inside.

So, in truth.. you can truly say within your war-torn heart,
that every thing I do,  is for you.
It was an honor to go to your wall after I posted
and see what your heart and spirit had revealed  just
a few hours earlier.

Love is a funny thing. You are worth every moment  
of the pain that has come from the years of trying.
Hope..  and a deep understanding;  
and view of your own, tremendous Love-worthiness  
is what it is all about.

It is for that reason, solely..  
that Poetry ever came into being in the first place

    
    ..You are beginning to feel Everything.

Forgiveness is
as forgiveness  does

and I have fallen  short
of breaking through
this family thing
this family, fling

This family hold
from days,  of old

This family-fed,
smiling, waving
****-pocket, (in)bred
Head-in-the-sand
adrenal gland
Death-bonded hold
this fungus-laced mold
holding you down
by your choice to choose
Nothing, but them

And out of the ashes
reaches up a hand
that strangles the mother-******..
aptly called

because  his ******* of
your mother..   his daughter,

groomed her
to bathe her pure, firstborn daughter
in order to offer her, back to him
as a living, breathing sacrifice--

Pure.. Holy.. Blameless;
without spot,  or defect   to him,  

     the destroyer of worlds

but mostly,  just yours --
his dearly, dearly Beloved.