I'm back. A mind doesn't rust from age, rather from inactivity.
[image by Deonta Wheeler]
What Might Have Been
To taste her lips
To touch her hair
To explore her soul
In a tempest affair
In search of needs
So tender
So rare.
We torture ourselves
When we reach
Beyond our grasp
And want to know
More of life
With but a temporary
Love potion
Where we only whet
The essence of
Desire.
Love can penetrate the
Darkness it can surmount
Many obstacles
It can reach hearts that
Never knew its treasures
But it does not
Perform miracles—
There must be a will
And a way
And the desire
To accept what it gives;
A divide eventually opens
When the rains come
And they wash away
All our temporal intentions
Carrying with their waters
The hopes and dreams
And sensations of
A tomorrow
That only might
Have been.
There certainly can be a chasm between what we desire and what we can acquire. Your poem beautifully reflects the image presented. It is rather sad, though. Perhaps a better image is to have one be satisfied with what one gets in life making the very best of it. Like when sunshine happens.
This piece reminded me of the ancient idea "if it doesn't happen, it was never meant to be." Although the saying is a bit cliche, there is for someone like myself a saving grace, as every experience is created as a learning process, and often, the more the pain, the greater the lesson. Although I've got plenty of college and university years under my belt, I still find the real learning opportunities are outside the scholarly aspirations. I attribute a great deal of that philosophy from the many years in NY and LA. Now... I find an endless terrain of reflections I call upon daily and attempt to ground with my keyboard to screen. I only hope it never wains. And, oh, your reference to "when the rains came" is a great metaphor for use anytime disappointment threatens to disable your ability to rationalize the experience. After all, as we all know, rain is for cleansing and growth of nature's many gifts...including our species.
Sometimes our passions are so deep that only action can quench the tumultuous desire. Fencing our desires can cuz quite a storming stir of sensations. Your poem speaks of love unmet and unreciprocated .
The might have been that should have been. I enjoyed your tender words . Be blessed xo
A collection of love poetry both relatable and unique.. Poems both joyful, playfu , yearning and romantic. The Poet has exposed his heart and soul in words of love and admiration. Take a journey through the thoughts of a Contempary poet of love. Poet
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Ron
The might have been that should have been. I enjoyed your tender words . Be blessed xo