You feel it at the moment
You breathe in your first breath
In the lasting memories
When Mama held your uncalloused hand

From the ever tender kiss
Placed on top your tiny head
When Daddy helped you say your prayers
Tucking you into bed

You feel it when it grabs you
In Elementary School
Knowing the full meaning when
You become its love struck fool

You find it unexpectantly
When you least expect
Feeling you've run out of time
And there is little left

It's in the warm embrace
When you are desperately in need
A family saying grace
That the good Lord keep

Between a husband and his bride
After all these many years
In both the joy and the hurt
Poured out in salty tears

You feel it when time draws near
To the ledge of eternity
As your family gathers round your bed
In the last ditch effort of comforting

It's in so many places
All at the same time
There's no other way to frame it
Love is seen world wide

loving him is poetry
and kissing him is art.

i'm used to being the creator
but being created from the affection
in his hands
and sculpted from intimacy
is a feeling like no other--
he doesn't just look, he sees me
every stray brush stroke
every drawn line
every brilliant color,
down to my skeleton,
he strips me of pretense and glows
with acceptance.

i am a bared soul,
battered and bruised,
shaken and scarred,
but even so--

i'm something beautiful in a gaze
like that.

What will it be like?
What will you be like
When all of you at once rests?
Will it be a relief?
Will it be sudden or gradual and will you know?
Will you know that breath for the one to bring you into harmony with the Vibrating earth?
The one that will become the breeze and take you with it.
Will it be peaceful?
Or will it make you shudder and your knuckles turn white?
Will that breath burn
And will you try to hold it?
Or will you embrace the value of what you've done?
The people you've loved and the warmth you've given.
Will you wish for one more?
Or will you offer it all willingly?
Out of contentment or resentment?
Will you think of yourself?
Or of someone you'd give your breath to?
Will it feel like falling?
Will it stab at every nerve in your body and will you let it show?
Will it be easy?
Scary?
Clear?
Will it be how you lived?
What will it be like?
What will you be like?

My couch is a wasteland,
Pulls me down, I cannot stand.
It scares me that I’m drawn to gore,
I see destruction, I want more.
I don’t know if its anger,
Or if it’s something stranger.
I want to shatter glass,
I need to make this feeling pass.
I want to throw things and scream,
I want to get out of this dream.
Running isn’t satisfying,
I feel like I need to break something.