Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
Though we may not be “together”
My heart feels for you,
And I wish nothing but life’s bounty for you,
Our souls entwined for so long made separation near impossible,
But by tearing asunder,
We each wear a gaping wound,
And while I wish it were not so,
I can only pray it was for the best,
May we each heal separately,
To find what we need most vitally
To individually thrive,
Propagating our own beautiful futures.
Healing is bittersweet,
It is hope with a tinge of pain,
The sting of loss,
Healing a heart is beautiful,
And sorrowful
With loss amidst the challenge
Of facing the unknown,
It is an escape room,
With the excitement from
The fear itself,
In a contained space,
The heart beats for what was,
The familiar,
And fears even the beauty of a fresh start,
Facing that conflict
is where the healing happens,
A heart is stitched together, bringing opposite sides together
Cry for what was,
But not for what could have been,
Because it wasn’t;
But there is a “will be”
On the horizon,
If you will let it come
To be.
I don’t want to go back,
But I am unsure of forward;
Frustration meets me
In this state of being
Stuck;
Home is where the heart is,
Still, a place is needed,
To be,
For one to be lifted up
By land and
Held by space,
That which is affirming and accepting,
And welcomes you to its setting,
I am working on that for me,
For us,
After adversity jettisoned us
From where we had
Only meant to be temporarily,
Somehow, I had forgotten;
Midnight,
Deja-vu,
Online,
I am here
and now looking,
For a place,
the next move.
Lonely is not my end,
It is but a chapter
In my epic story;
Nights alone,
Basking in a blue light
Soothing and healing internal hurts
From love gone wrong
Is where I am meant to be,
Right now,
For now;
Tenderly mending from in to out,
Alone,
to never again be truly lonely;
Here, preparing my heart
For whatever is next,
Building its muscle
To jump back in,
Wanting,
But patient for Love,
Biding my precious time,
For someone loving,
ready and worthy of me,
And what I have to offer in return;
With one life to live,
I will appreciate the embrace of the dark
Until when I am ready and willing,
To be
embraced in the dark.
You,
Something happened to you
That you don’t want to touch
Don’t want to ponder,
Because it hurt.
The wound memory remains;
A scar,
Tender,
Real,
Still part of you,
Be tempted to feel it,
This reshaped you,
To know
And accept that the past happened,
And you are not who you were before
You were injured,
But you are so much more,
You are a living work of art
a soul vessel
Being modeled and molded still,
Your cracks repaired with healing gold,
And
Your light glows through
Where that won’t hold;
Beautiful
As you are.
I do not fall easily,
But I fall hard,
I commit myself
To a hand,
Based on
possibility
And knowing
When
There is an inner goodness
Pulsing through with radiant beauty
That my own senses have perceived,
Thus, I am not who I was
Before,
–Back then eager, heart merely pure
with naiveté,
Now matured
My heart recognizes,
And knows to banish the love con,
For my Iove is still true,
Loyal,
And my loving worthy of one
who can truly love
Me;
May my good heart not be fooled
Again,
By a love vandal.
She of Letters 