Gentle Strength

 

Our fingers intertwined,fingers
our souls re-joined,
our hearts spanned distance and time ~
Reminders of encounters in lives long past,
when we dwelled in the presence of the Divine.

I thought of days of sadness
… of endless, sleepless nights,
of futile attempts at climbing..
but plummeting from towering heights.

With his gentle strength, he held me,
as I laid my appeased soul against him..
My burdens released, finally at peace
I felt my spirit flow within him

I closed my eyes,
and I wept..
.. and I wept ~
as walls of resistance came crumbling down,
and in serene tranquility,
I slept..
..and I slept ~
in the middle of his ocean I gently drowned.

Wanderers In A Field of Flowers

“Behind the blood-stained curtains of Love, 
there are fields of flowers where lovers wander.

To wander in the fields of flowers, pull the thorns from your heart.”
~ Rumi
Image

A girl once wandered along a field of flowers, feet bare
Carefree and unafraid of what she might encounter there

She knew the thorns she removed from her staunch heart
were the launching point, from the point of depart

With the promises that come with the freedom of wings
that portend magical Hope and other beautiful things.

She stopped in the midst of flowers abounding
held out her arms to soak in the sun’s rays astounding

Her head raised high, her eyes serenely closed
no more tranquil an image could have been posed.

Soon thereafter, a feather from the heavens fell
suddenly appearing, as if cast from a spell

It gently danced and glided, sought out her hand
as if searching for a warm place to land

A feather of the most vibrant hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

No sooner had the feather ended its flight
there followed a most ethereal sight .

It was the most exquisite bird,
and suddenly,
something within the girl’s staunch heart stirred.

On her outstretched hand, the bird gracefully landed,
peered into her soul, her attention it commanded.

Resplendent and fine, its feathers in all those dazzling hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

She could not help but caress those fine feathers,
as she stood amidst the irises and the heathers.

The bird sang a melody so sanguine and so sweet
only briefly it lingered in sorrow,
a song reminiscent of times long past,
and a subtle promise of tomorrow.

As the bird then moved to the palm of her hand
its beauty, a stunning mesmerization;
the awareness that it may soon fly away
was a sudden and terrifying realization.

She held it with care, grateful for each moment
treasuring each offering like a gift from a lover
Is your heart here to stay, she wanted to ask,
or does it belong to another?

You are not from this place, she thought to herself
You belong in paradise, your heavenly abode
Are you visiting, dear wanderer? Or lost, searching for home?
Still pursuing a path along your designated road?

How easy it would be to close that hand
hold the exquisite bird there forever..
It would sing to her every day,
A bond that would not sever.

But love is not of a forced possession
In her being, this she knew.
That vibrant light would surely dim
There would be no more vibrant hue

And so she wandered on in the field of flowers,
towards the blazing horizon of the dusking sky.
The majestic bird perched upon her open hand
as it sang the songs of days gone by.

Fear remains, along with many thoughts awoken
they set behind the fiery orange-crimson sun,
they hide behind fragile promises spoken,
and gold-gilded intentions begun.

Twilight descends, infused with the disquiet dark brings
accentuated by the stillness of night..
‘but the morning brings strength to her restless wings*’
and Hope, emerges with the Light.

 

*Jackson Browne

Perhaps Love Is Not Ours For The Keeping..

15d08e9290385a6d095e572fe1a2ab9eWhy is it so hard to find and keep love?
And why is the pain of the heart so much worse than the pain of the body?
And why does it seem that a death is more bearable than accepting that someone left you –
because in death they had no choice.

You walk away from each other with so many memories not yet created;
so much remaining unsaid,
so many dreams unshared,
because suddenly it doesn’t seem safe to share.
One moment that person is the closest soul to you;
and the next moment,
before even a full breath is taken,
that person is almost a stranger.


And the unsaid words consume you.

wanting to ask: if you love me,
why did you leave me?

wanting to tell you how much I miss you,
but knowing that I shouldn’t.

wanting to ask you to re-consider,
but knowing that I wouldn’t.

Thoughts dominate your every waking moment;
you sleep less yet you cannot stand being awake
because the pain is too much.
You try to occupy your mind with other things, other people – movies, reading, work, travel –
but nothing else exists.
A phantom of you carries you on with life, a shell gliding through the motions;
performing,
smiling in response to a smile,
laughing on cue…
When all you want is be away from it all,
lulled in the cocoon of your own thoughts,
wrapped in the blanket of the dark recesses of a place where you can finally break down,
surprised to find that sometimes the healing is worse than the break.

But fighting it takes too much effort,
Strangely, you find peace in giving in to the pain.
Because beneath the facade,
your soul is dissecting every word previously said.
His words run like a coiled fuse
across your mind and around your heart:
I can’t believe you’re mine“.

Behind the mirror of your eyes you are replaying every encounter;
trying so desperately to understand why;
wondering if you said something wrong,
did something wrong..
if maybe you had done things differently…
trying to make sense of what can never make sense.
needing answers you know you will never get.

You go through so many emotions,
so many conflicting feelings..
torn between anger and pain,
confusion and denial,
love and hate,
blame and understanding –

wanting to forget and wanting to hold on to the memories..
wanting to delete those pictures and wanting to save them forever.
and the cycle repeats.
.. and repeats..

Every moment, every memory, becomes so much clearer, so much sharper –
like a razor blade in your mind;
more deeply engraved into the psyche of your soul.

And the reminders are everywhere..
because he was a part of your life, every part
and you thought it was forever.

You try so hard to forget..
But it ended too soon, and seems so senseless
like throwing away a bouquet of flowers before it even begins to wilt.

You tell yourself that people are who they are.
We cannot change them or ask them to want or be something they don’t want.
That no matter what they do to us, we have to accept that they are on their own personal journey.
And it is their right to seek their path as they see fit.

Perhaps that is how we grow, how we learn.
Perhaps their purpose in our life was simply to light that spark– and the rest is up to us.
Perhaps the purpose of Love is to always seek it, sometimes find it..
but never keep it.
perhaps Love is not ours for the keeping..

Your friends try to be there for you,
Offering an understanding ear to unburden your soul,
but your soul wants to hold on to its burden.
Offering a shoulder to cry on,
but no shoulder has enough strength for the load you carry.
Offering arms to embrace you,
but no arms will suffice when the only arms you want to fall into are those of the one who left you.
Offering sympathetic words that only serve to bring forth more of the tears you’re trying so hard to keep at bay..
You cannot risk letting anyone into the fragile sanctum of your Being as the wound is still precariously tender,
and the slightest quiver may open up floodgates you feel may never close again.

But Time passes by,
slowly but inevitably.
And, mercifully, the pain lessens a little each time you sleep and awaken.
The days alone become tolerable,
The nights that were once filled with loneliness become tranquil in solitude.
The once constant agony becomes the occasional twinge
when you smell a certain scent,
when you pass by the restaurant where you once shared a booth and enjoyed a meal,
when you see a happy couple holding hands as they walk by,
when you pass the place he first asked to hold your hand, and you shared your first kiss,
when you see the commercial for the television show you used to watch together that you can not bear to watch again
when you see a mildly familiar silhouette,
or in the hint of a smile that is almost like the one you remember,
or in the intense gaze of a passing stranger that is reminiscent of the one that haunts your dreams.

…and you can finally smile though the tears because the memories,
while once only painful –
are now painfully beautiful.

The pain passes but the beauty remains..

..and one day you realize you no longer count your growth in years,
but in the number of times your heart had been broken,
then scarred and healed again ~
like the growth rings of a tree,
growing stronger in the process.

“It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling.
When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters any more.
It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace.”
~George Bernard Shaw

The Deepest Scars

All your life you have been the giver,  the supporter,
the one who has to remain strong for everyone else…

And then one day a special person comes along..
And is able to see through your facade of strength;
Able to see through your “I’m fine” as his penetrating eyes gaze into yours;
Able to perfectly translate your *sigh*s.

May I hold your hand?”, he quietly asks.
When your smile shyly acquiesces,
he takes your hand and holds it with such gentle firmness..
and all your fears disappear
as the early morning mist disappears when the sun rises.

And when he takes you in his arms ~ gently encircling you ~ enveloping you in warmth;
It is akin to being submerged in deep, calm waters;
breathing serenity;
absorbing tranquility;
cocooned in a sanctuary of tenderness.

You rest your weary head upon his strong, broad shoulders…
and all the years of turmoil effortlessly melt away.

And when he kisses you ~oh, his kisses..
the world disappears.
Time stands still and nothing else matters.
You float..
you float so high,
feeling your feet may never again touch the ground.

You see, the scars that are deepest in our heart
are the ones that remain long after the pain is gone —
long after we have forgiven,
and perhaps even forgotten.

Then that one person appears, and he reaches in deep,
even deeper than those scars;
and it hurts
oh, it hurts.

He reaches in, and rips them out..
and you bleed..
and you hemorrhage..
and you break..
… purged of all your tormented past.

Yes, it is the only way to heal,
the only way to fully and completely revive,
and become whole once again.

He knows exactly what to do with the broken pieces..
how to look at you,
how to hold you,
how to kiss you,
how to soothe you.

He somehow found his way through the maze of your barricades
scaled the walls you had erected
and effortlessly tore them down.
He did not give you life, but he resurrected it after it had been asleep for so long.
And you did not know you were sleeping.

When inward tenderness finds the secret hurt, pain itself will crack the rock and Ah! Let the soul emerge.” ~ Rumi