Sure as Autumn Flame


5 weeks to words

ImageA hot air balloon emerging from the mist,
Perhaps this is what reality looks like under all that morphine.

For months I’ve buried the stirrings of an emotional connect beneath the daily grind,
Only for a fatal incident to open my eyes to the love from friends and others close to my heart  I nearly left behind,
Through morphine and painkillers those memories are fleeting, but real,
As they etched themselves into my heart to remember, to heal.

My friends, you came and chatted, how I hung on to those conversations,
They remind me of our shared laughter and enjoyable moments,
How we’ve grown and paved our path to future destinations;
These I’ve neglected, all in the name of blinded pursuits for success and accomplishments,
And to close a chapter on love and all other emotions.

The days at home can be long and empty,
Filled with images and thoughts but alas they are so damn flighty;
You came by and spent the hours with me when I’m stuck at home and my brain so laggy,
Not my best state, with the world through my eyes turning topsy-turvy.

Touched – I was, a quiet peace that accompanied your presence,
You saw my before and aftermath, never again;
Eight lives I’ve gambled, granted with one – to love, to cherish, to put a smile on others’ faces,
To tell the stories the world ought to hear, and know somewhere, somehow I’ve made a tiny difference.

Stay if you plan to stay, don’t come and go,
The body’s battered, there leaves only the soul.
The former I can play, the latter I keep within,
Bit by bit revealed, through encounters thick and thin.

The recovery path might have seemed easy and nice;
Masked through optimism, character and moments I fantasize;
There have been minutes of frustration, worry and agony,
The fear of losing myself – intelligence, pace and musicality,
The tremble in my veins, not seeing my past wordsmith and ideas surface…

The mind could draw a blank just like that,
I find myself searching my memory banks as though I’ve misplaced the catalogue for them,
Like a confused librarian who has nothing on her hand,
I leave my search to prayers and hope,
While I re-teach myself to think the way I did again.

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Unspoken words
May 21, 2009, 1:01 am
Filed under: Rhyme & Riddle | Tags: ,

We speak a thousand words a week, but our bodies spell a million more a day.

A raised eyebrow, the slightest twitch of the lips, wrinkling of noses, fingers tapping, teeth grinding. A shift of my body – towards, away from – arch of my back, a wink. Too many.

.

A lack of smile. A peck on the lips. Your hands do not meet mine when I rest them on your knee.
My heart hurts, my smile remains frozen…you do not see.

.

A genuine grin. Smile lines crinkle. Your eyes followed my smile to you. We part our ways.
My lips remain curled..upwards. I pause, mid-step..and continued my gait, knowing we’ll meet again.

.

Words from a poet are like the dance of my fingers on your back.
Peace flows through me to you, connected by arms enveloping your fragile soul.
We lie side by side, not touching, just breathing. Yet you sleep deep tonight.
Much unspoken, but felt through the silence of the night.