Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Here,
In the dark,
Dear one,
There is peace,
And most often quiet,
But you are missing nothing,
But my audible silence
As I write this poem,
As I think these thoughts,
As I coax myself toward slumber
And alas,
Once my eyelids have grown heavy,
And my writing utensil drops,
I close up “shop,”
And I too
Go
To sleep
Hold me
I want you to hold,
To lay close to your beating heart,
As close as we are now apart,
I want
To comfort your being
Of all the fears that pass over your brow,
I want to kiss away tears
That escape your tiring eyes,
I want to love you,
As I was always meant to,
Holding you close,
Like there are no barriers between us,
And I take your name,
As if we are one,
And the same,
May our hearts beat as one,
For always,
My love.
I need the tools,
The skills,
To untangle the spiritual knot,
That gets tangled,
Each time an atrocity comes to be,
Each time evil shows it’s face,
Teeth bared
This is why I am on this path,
To gain and use the learned,
For more than just my own
The usual spots,
We find solace in their depths,
Mine? The library;
In the smell of old pages,
There is knowledge kept in here,
Waiting to be found,
To be known by hungry minds,
Here I am starving,
There is knowing to be known,
So leads curiosity
She of Letters 