Blanc de Blancs

This precious love for you
Grows
Deeper and deeper
Into my earth.

Tap roots of empathy
Draw compassion
From every beat of my heart.

It nourishes my soul
With a fire that burns
Eternally.

I turn to your warmth
It strengthens me.

I look to the evening skies
The only reminder I have
Of the beauty in your eyes.

Sunset hues
Blues
Orange, pink, purple and gold.

Flesh and wood and stone
Trap and hold.

But the seeds of my Spirit break free
Scatter, disperse
Into your horizon
Every particle of you
Now part of me.

I cherish you as my own
Your very presence
Makes me whole.

No distance
Nor time
Can separate thee.

All I have
I offer
Graciously.

A safe place to catch your tears
Like rain
I use them, to water my despair.

They bear me great vines
The Queen of Grapes
This Chardonnay.

I press and dance it
Into fine wines
Of healing faith.

Blanc de Blancs
A taste of something true
Deeper and deeper
Grows
This precious love for you.

We are a part of nature. We are nature. Mother Nature wounds herself as she transforms year after year, season after season, sacrificing herself for the needs of her children.

But in time, those very wounds are healed, with the balm of her sap, the decay that provides nourishment for richer growth and new land that emerges from the oceans. Her strength lies in her determination to come back to life, time and time again.

So too do we wound ourselves and yet also have the innate ability to heal the same wounds we have created. Be strong, keep in faith and live in love. 

There is often a disconnect between what we imagine is real, what is and what cannot exist. In life and in love, we spend our lives trying to bridge those gaps.

Sometimes the bridges are not complete, sometimes they are faulty, sometimes circumstances removes them without warning. But with faith and fullness of heart, better, sturdier structures can be re-built.

We can then walk seamlessly across them, standing firmly on the truth we find. We can see clearly into the horizon of our future, knowing we are cared for and supported, believing fully that we are loved. 

Inside my heart there is a mansion
built for you, my friends.
It is always open to you,
unlocked, unguarded.
You can run through the halls
or sit quietly if you choose.
You have the keys,
come and go as you please!
Walk in and out of every room,
I will love you no less, that I can assure.
But if at any point you decide to leave,
I have just one request,
try your best,
not to slam the door. 

For The Heart

I used to live in the darkness

At times, I miss the night

Shift, my mind from left to right

Fully, in the sun

Burn, like heat

Waves, across the white sand of my love

Aches, and pains, and yearnings

For the heart, it is confused  

Portrait of Words

Most lovely Erato, has my feeble wish been heard?

Bestowed not gifts of oil on canvas,

Lying weary in the shade of thoughts,

I dare to paint a portrait with the strokes and curves of word.

To chisel through black marble hearts of men,

With golden ink and feathered pen.

Therein lies the faint memory of vanilla robes, roses and myrtle in her hair.

The soft iron hammer breaks free this goddess of love.

Her honeyed voice pours over my tablet of despair.

Heavy eyes are played to sleep,

Misty echoes of the lyre fill my dream.

Awake beside me she sings of distances,

Beyond the vault of stars above and springs beneath the stream.

Fine shades of beauty,

Hues of desire, revelation and hope.

I sculpt and sand the image of a sweet and gentle exalt,

Unbound by the tightening grip of chastising rope.

Roused from visionary escape,

Swept away with the light of morn,

Solitaire and fortuitous I stand,

From answered prayers, what magnificence may be borne!

Novel's End

Finally, a close to this chapter,

I took too long to read.

Your insinuations interwoven,

Where there is no want, there is no need.

I highlighted the lighthearted moments,

Bookmarked my favorite days,

Tore out the blank pages,

Dog-eared your wicked ways.

My eyes, a ship moving cautiously, across your reefed words.

Winds and storms, passing without warn.

At the mercy of your currents,

My eyelids heavy, my mainsail becalmed and torn.

Merely machinations of my imagination.

Disillusioned by my illusions.

Was I the sky or the ocean floor?

Broken masts, damaged hull,

I run aground,

Only to wash up on your shore.

I plot a steady course away from you,

Once a bright and shining star.

My Polaris, sinking in the night,

The Southern Seas before me,

Finally, a close to this chapter,

A torrent reminder, of who you really are.