are we simply waiting…waiting for the end
closing our eyes prematurely to a glimmer
of light lying in wait to ambush our vision?
are you closing me out now, out of sight
out of senses beginning to thaw, are you?
is the heart thawing process too painful
for one frozen in time and afraid of hope?
I can’t give you tomorrow... or yesterday
but today I can surround you with truth
and a gift of love far superior to my arms
what are arms, what is pleasure of touch,
a brief, extravagant flash of perfection?
only a moment, a moment is not enough
and yet I know a bitter wind of loneliness
can invite us to still slumber in a cold bed
waiting for the welcome end of existence
you waited for me, waited for my warmth
and now you lock me outside your gate
melting drifts from your wintry doorstep
holding out comfort with both my hands
to a man too afraid to lift the frozen latch
love sweet as juniper berries on tongue
and wild like great cat of the mountains
snow swirls, winds howl outside your gate
will I tire of waiting for you as you delay?
how long will you be waiting for the end?
Belle, there is a sense of underlying urgency here -- desire that has endured and is at the verge of waiting no more -- if he is not willing to chance and open love's door -- this recalcitrant lover that will not see the love of his life, passion and romance waiting at his door -- deeply moving write my dear friend -- peace and love be always with you -- Jon Michael
Sometimes, what appears to be a reluctant lover is not other than a prisoner of fate chained far away in the cold, death is freedom, not a punishment on the solitude freeze.
There's two that wait.
Golly gosh, the moods i feel in this.
Yet how dreadful life can be.
Even us, despised for being male, lift the latch, offer everything, but left out in the cold to die.
A timely and spiritual offering...a rhythm held in the canoe on what seems to be a long journey...canoe turned upside down and propped up on logs waiting for the waterways to unthaw...spring must be privy to this information of Waiting, Belle...tipi fires keep you within arm's length...rawhide coverlet for two...prepare the oars for the vision of the horsehair gate...it takes more than one form of transportation, float and hoof...patience and more fire stix...
This is deeply moving and poignant, Belle. It feels almost like a precipice write, like a long journey has been endured and the alternatives are closing in like the weather. So very atmospheric and in-tune with intuitive heart-mind-soul gleanings. Your native american setting is spot on for a poem of this nature and enhances the raw feelings you write of so well. The on-fire imagery for me is:
love sweet as juniper berries on tongue
and wild like great cat of the mountains
such divergent energy and exhilaration in these lines. Bless you, Darlin xx
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
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Carole~
but today I can surround you with truth,
and a gift of love
More than enough for many. Love the music and that graphic, La Belle.
There's two that wait.
Georg
Be always safe,
Karen
Yet how dreadful life can be.
Even us, despised for being male, lift the latch, offer everything, but left out in the cold to die.
Brill to seya babes... xxx
Love,
Sage
Great job as always.
GOD BLESS
Tony
love sweet as juniper berries on tongue
and wild like great cat of the mountains
such divergent energy and exhilaration in these lines. Bless you, Darlin xx
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Deborah