The sky weeps for the passing of beauty
Ripped from this world by terror
Asleep in the belief of safety
But waking in pain
Looking into the face of one’s god
Pleading for succor
But there are limits on us all
And so we weep
And the brothers who hunt the land eternal
Rage as sight is blurred and torn from us
Stand vigil in the windswept madness
Of a pain
Thunder crashes down
Herald of the torrent
Wash me away
As long as it’s to you
The agony of without
Thread by thread
One more failed attempt
To get to you
One more broken footprint
Clouds like cut glass
Jut upwards past blue
To a star drenched sky
White and gray flotillas
Black spike clouds
Stillness of the air
Pent up breathe
The sense of waiting
Even birds dare not sing
And minute trill quickly silenced
When found no else that dare answer
You speak of yourself as a storm. As if to warn me away. And in doing so, fail utterly, if that be your goal.
I am He who walks between. I speak with the embodiments of the elements, I cavort and hold friendship with those of air.
I follow the path of a lord of Storm, of night, of Winter.
You speak to me of your storm and I think, “Perfection.” Be you a storm. Strike wind and in fierceness know, in me you are home.
Should you care to make a place with me. Storms are not to be feared but loved. Shouted in joy. And should they calm, spoken soft words to and made ready for when next they stir.
Yup, I hate spring. It is the low point of my year. The lowest point of any year. Winter solstice is bad enough. At least there winter is at the height of its powers. Spring equinox and its all downhill. 3 months of low ebb. I quote the great man when I say “Buggerit, millennium hand and shrimp!”
Last rays of light, falling tears in a glorious gray sky
rip me open
pour in your fury
stand as archetype
break the world
without you there is only end
Is it hopeless?
I can honestly say that I have found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Found them twice in fact. Because there is not just one person in the world whose soul vibrates at the same frequency, there are many. Sometimes you find them and they are ripped away, sometimes they walk away for reasons of their own, and sometimes you’re just in wildly different mental places and it’s doomed. But those are all endings. Endings take care of themselves.
It’s beginnings and middles that are important. Start boldly, love fiercely. Love them with all that you are. As the rush of the new begins to fade embrace the middle, hold on, renewing your love each day. Sometimes each moment. Find that sharp ache in your heart and fan those flames. Kiss them, hold them, touch them. Find something new or a new aspect of them each day. Change for yourself and out of your desire to be better and more for them. Be the best version of yourself. Love can free you to achieve greatness.
If you find love like this, build love like this, then fight for it, fight for them. Never walk away. If they are in darkness be a beacon out of that darkness. Relationships are difficult but the rewards are beyond the pale. Always remember, endings take care of themselves. Your responsibility is the now and immediate future. By all means, make plans. Just be prepared for those moments when plans go awry and improvisation is the only answer.
Love, love with all that you are. All else is foolish without that.
Sift me from sand
Grain by grain, paint my picture
Line and curve
Stitch and blow
Until I stand complete
Awaiting the storm