A God Thing…

I found out today…well about 43 minutes ago a beautiful muse, my catalyst to start writing; circa 2012 is not the man I thought of him to be.

There is a beautiful sadness to this truth. A chapter left unwritten 7 years ago. It’s a God thing really. A gift I clearly see. I was protected all those years ago. Beauty of God’s protection despite the heartaches endured of all involved, I am cloaked with a bittersweet awe! I now have that final piece of closure…last piece finally played. End game.

I pray God favors him and showers him with love and mercy. Pray his family heals from what they have and are going through.

To you, my catalyst muse, I carry parts of you with me; always. Thank you for our experience. I would not be where I am today.

With a knowing of love that endures, may you find it on this earth for you and your loved ones once again.

M

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A Winter’s Remains…

I spoke with no real understanding. How hollow it all seems now…my words thin, like cold breath, holding no warmth or substance, worthless vapor in the end.

His haunted truth, his complexity, a foreign life somewhere woven in the space between the words screaming, “experience”, “intelligence”, “life lived!”

I guess they’re comfortable, words connected, lying there in all their shades of blue & black, some gorgeously red & flecked with golden shimmer. All nestled in a rectangles, 2D scopes hardly worthy of his brilliant bulge.

I am triggered..felled…pale…

I fear I am still what I was/have been all these years. A colorless winter scene. Just a lackluster pile of remains. Life’s blood barely flowing beneath a frozen ground

and still, therein lies no bloom

MB 2019

Of flames light…

I am awakened
yet parched 
softer behind theses closed moments
dreaming in sunlight
dangling from leaves
the wind against my skin
reminiscent of your distant sound
I think of you kneeling in the brilliance
of stained glass & candlelight
like holy fire brushed against my lips 
mingle with my breath
eternity burns inside my sighs
Am I of any measure inside your field
what shall I do for you my beautiful love
shall I ever convince you of me
inside this resevoir of me
our stars rooted 
timeless

extrodinary within her ordinary day…

“there is no pretense to my breathing

or its mere seconds of suspension

when I feel you well up within me…”

 

There is no other that I choose, and yet how can I live the rest of my years here with a cold loneliness, a void hidden deep within. I, in constant flux of this living and dying. It is like a thousand thieves steal my gentleness and I rage for extraodinary…these winged words fly away and remain uncaptured by him