The gates of love!

Twisted, battered, and beaten, I lay at the doorstep of the universe, like an abandoned dog looking for a home, and though I bark at the bolted gate, no one seems to care. I have hope, and so I turn my lonesome body into a curl, and bake in the day’s heat, and midnight cold, curl myself tighter and tighter so as not to feel so alone. In my dreams, stars curl up to me, and the moon, sing songs of love, of happiness and play and belonging; yet when I open my eyes, they have moved far away, to far for me to reach, to hug them back. My eyes stare at the void that is sprinkled with their iridescence, the moon smiling upon them and me, bemused by my longings, and sends beams of warm light, but the distant stars stare only coldly back. Some one cares it seems, or is it just that? My wanting imagination, leads my mind astray, falling into an abyss of unfulfilled longing, answering my own questions, and longing fulfillment.  I wander a path of feelings begging to become real, needing to express themselves, to make form and light of my own void, and that creation to be loved, to be hugged, loved and kissed, and appreciated in its being, I need to be, and so told, I am, who I want to be, born yet not, died yet not, but everlasting, and loved eternally. All is quiet at the gate, the heat has returned, after the night’s bitter cold, as the sun shines another day its indifferent blackness into my eyes. I wander away from its cold divide, looking, elsewhere, don’t know where, hoping, hoping to fill the void with my presents, and having it acknowledged, somehow somewhere, someone, who, someone said there was a God, me creator, did she hatch me, and then abandon me, to this empty space,  this lonesome vigil waiting! Waiting for what? Ah I forgot, to be acknowledged, or was I discarded like waste upon the universal heap, to rot there, in silence, with all the other discarded and rotting refuse Composting into eternity, to be reborn from dust, used, and discarded again like an empty paper bag? Is

It that, I am liking myself, to the filling of  the paper bag, with your needs, but yet I am an empty shell, wasted when not needed anymore, is it that I find and identify my worth with your riches in that momentary assignment of yours?  They are empty longings amused imaginings, sanity’s hold, to bridge reality, and longing in this bitter cold and lonely heaven, and then I wonder again and again, questioning my reality, with that of others, searching to see, if their truth sees more than mine, if their truth has been acknowledged, but only through faith, I wonder, and I wander back to the gate, to look some more into our collective soul, looking to find that Star, that creator of all and our relationship, to tell me my hope in faith is rewarded. Searching through the iron divide,

That only mind and soul can penetrate; I reach far to its outer edges, the long arm of my soul wanting to engage the womb that birthed me, and its owner. Oh so many moons, I lay at that gate, growing older, yet not wiser to my searching, where are you I yell, and finally, finally, to my surprise in the distance, a little star walks toward me, a sparkling smiling heavenly star, and small enough to pass through, to penetrate all my minds prison bars, and my hearts fears, that little star licks my face with kisses abandon, a sweet little bark, and she is in my arms, cuddled close to my yearning heart, her name is Love, alias Jasmin, white and pure, a gift from God, every night we both yell loudly thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Then fall asleep, at the gate, wrapped in each others arms!

You want to know where that gate is.  It can be found in your minds heart, and at the gates of the humane society!