Intimacy an emotion unspoken,
Its thimble oh so easily filled.
A moment when our hearts open,
Deeper than anything we ever willed.
We fall happily into its depths,
Tread its waters for a little while.
Awash in its velvety silk splendor,
Hypnotized by its embracing style.
A momentary sharing like no other,
As if co-mingling with a distant star.
Drawn closer than my father or mother,
A stolen moment, love’s door left ajar.
Longing for the lover never so brief,
Desire was never so burning.
The simple beatitude of honest relief,
Only comes with intense yearning.
Today’s intimacy is in short supply,
I couldn’t tell you the reason why.
Total strangers can become old friends,
Each person serving their own ends.
It’s easy to simply dive in and forget,
Abandon the world with little regret.
Have you ever caught in hand a firefly?
Have you ever captured a butterfly?
To hold nature’s miracle quietly in peace;
The closeness comes from its swift release.
Intimacy’s thimble is always easily filled,
Far deeper and richer than ever I willed.
I believe our worship of technology has all but robbed us of our ability to be intimate with anyone but our own singular selves. We are rarely there even when we're physically close.
Rebecca
THERE ARE, YOU KNOW, ALL DIFFERENT KINDS OF INTIMACIES; PHYSICAL, SPIRITUAL AND EMOTIONAL AND 'NEEDS' CHANGE, LOOKING FOR AN 'INTIMACY' THAT IS FAR DEEPER AND RICHER THAN EVER WE WILLED. GOOD WORK, THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
The fact that you used a thimble to hold intimacy must imply that you believe the feeling will trickle out slowly from the holes. A thimble is small and easy to fill, but It can only hold the emotion for a brief while since it's fleeting. I hope I interpreted it correctly.
As I have a rather broad understanding of intimacy, one that embraces the inner-intimacy of connection without sex just as readily as expressing a different mindset with bodies entwined, I found your piece far reaching for the readers who will consider there's more than merely seeking out a flesh and blood object for intimacy. Good work here.
You think of it as a thimble. I like to think of it as a cup runneth over. But your words are beautifully woven in this poem of desire. So I will accept your small token taken close to the fire.
Lovely thoughts. There are many levels and kinds of intimacy in this life surely. Intimacy with self, though, seems to be the most predominant. Speaking personally: the most important intimacy for me in this world is with my wife and the Creator. Enjoyed. Peace... r
intimacy in love is a result of many factors coming together -- a really rare but extremely powerful thing, thru which we clean our karma and improve DNA, too. It's a gift for both and from both lovers. there must be a closed circle to run.
Yes, life in the modern world needs something different. Actually, it was always like this; intimacy is the art which is not available for everyone; it's better to say, not everyone is able to learn it; hence the shallowness you're so nicely writing about, John. Cheers, alex
Loved the indepth wordplay of intimacy . . . And you are correct for the most part, "Intimacy’s thimble is always easily filled." We try. We fail. We try, try and try again, until at last we are sated. Good morning poem to read, and I thank you for it.
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
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Rebecca
Ron
Yes, life in the modern world needs something different. Actually, it was always like this; intimacy is the art which is not available for everyone; it's better to say, not everyone is able to learn it; hence the shallowness you're so nicely writing about, John. Cheers, alex