I confess
it was the love of you
gave me breath
wound around middle finger
flax and straw
plucked from those nearest to sky
a pinch of light
holding lantern against sheltered corners
of myself not recognized
you were dressed in color and feeling
bequeathing underfoot a trail
of sound and touch
caught in memory
your pulse pressed against
my own frigid skin
repelling life so long … forgetful of how
to shed her jade for opacity
when it is too much I reach for
the song of you playing within my hollows
like a scoop of earth will
leave room for planting
you scatter your faith
rows of hope
to take root and turn my emptiness
lavender and mustard
fields stretching out
One glory two uses
anoint this paradox
defying gray
I see a figure in the distance
running to catch up with you
clasping hands they
take off their shoes
soft is the ground beneath their
trust
it is my darling
the story of
us
I can’t help but hold my breath while reading your words. So. Beautifully put together.
This is a stunning piece.
“Holding lantern against the sheltered corners of myself not recognized “. Thank you for sharing your gifts. This is a vivid and a true definition of therapy. Intentions or not, some choose to look while others choose to look away.
Dearest Rick I meant to write back earlier but have been swamped I will though in a while I promise not forgotten. I hope you are doing okay please know I’m thinking of you. Meanwhile I hope she had a good time even without you, and that you are resting. Remind me to tell you what I found about about Jade.
Beautiful. 😊😊
Thank you so much lovely friend
You’re very welcome. 😊
Bellissimo Candice ღ
Thank you so much lovely M.
The images of earth and planting are lovely.
Every time I DARE write something with earth and nature in it, I can see you and hear what you might think and it either stays my hand or encourages it. You are quite a presence both literal and figurative, this being a very good thing
I’m thrilled to think that I might have encouraged you in this direction. It makes lovely poetry 🙂
You very much did. Today’s offering of the story of your grandmother, inspired me to write more too – you always do. I think some writers we read just do (not many though) because something about their work connects deeply with us. I can’t even say what it is – preference I suppose like picking a favorite song. Well you did like Bowie 😉
Ha! I’m always suspicious of people who say they don’t like Bowie. Then they cite people they do like. And I think ???
More wonderful imagery, especially ‘the song of you playing within my hollows’
Kate Bush like definitely! I do take my cue !
Beautiful words and images. I particularly, liked “you were dressed in color and feeling” and “the song of you playing within my hollows.”
Your lovely words are so appreciated as you are a wonderful poetess so they are extremely flattering and kind.
Aww–thank you. 🙂
Lovely, delicate somehow, like spun candy floss
Candy floss? I love that. You got it just right.
Well, I am your friend, so…;
and everyone calls me Candy so there was that double meaning too 😉
☺️
Just wonderful, fairy tale light and earth solid.
Dear Brenda thank you so very much for your much appreciated read and comment ! xx
My pleasure.
This is another extraordinary example of your talents but mostly your soul, the fragrance you leave in other’s souls, your fragrance will never leave mine or other’s lives ..
C, I love you. Thank you. And sorry to worry you this weekend, I came out of the big dipper into the little dipper, but it was still not enough to get my words out of my ass it seems 😉 what say we try some time this week? I hope you’re safe, it’s raining cats and dogs over here – big hug my brother
You were dressed in color and feeling 👌🏾
Thank you so much!
Beautiful haunting scenery of your heart.. *sigh*
WoW!!!! mesmerizing…….beautiful!!! loved it!!! 🙂 🙂
Thank you so much! I am so glad you did!
my pleasure!!! 🙂 🙂
this is so delicate and true. I think, every ‘us’ is always the story of trust
Very true – there is no ‘us’ if there is no trust. So often what people perceive as trust is a bag of bones, loosely held together. It is necessary for greater connection for this thing called trust to be sincere and not just a five word lullaby. I don’t know how it works, in the world of continuous temptation, yet I see it sometimes, in the steady hand of love, an unexpected loyalty just when you had given up and believe the world governed by the temporary
I’m starting to love your poetry even more dear
You let your romantic self out in this one 🙂
Really did, didn’t i? Busted! 😉
I always knew you had it in you 🙂
On a good day! It helps having my lovely friends lifting me up to believe in such things again (thank you)
🙂