Waxing poetic on thoughts, theory & the times
What magick did I make as a child;
Undercovers imaging the future?
Let me remember this art,
To manifest a future in which I
Am loved, by one I can trust,
A romantic and life partner who will never hurt me.
Beautiful life with cracks
Where the light gets in
And out.
May it be so.
(Post relocated from my Thepurplepaintedbutterfly.wordpress.com blog)
Night is falling in too soon,
Suddenly,
Too soon,
The wind abruptly lifted from our lungs as we watch,
And recognize,
Too soon,
The good and sweet we recall of you,
Knowing this is too soon,
For the life that is yours to be removed from ours,
Tears they fall,
Or tears they stall,
As disbelief sets in,
We look to the great beyond
Wondering what resides there,
For you,
For each of us,
Demanding why,
Of Spirit we still long to know,
Long to understand,
If there is a why in the divine,
And what that is,
We demand to know,
For why do the sweet, the young, the innocent, the good need to go,
And in unideal manners,
And why should and do the good die young,
This is penance for those who remain,
To watch as you go,
We cry,
As weeping bodies,
Our sacrificial gift for one we love,
You are slipping into the greater existence now,
in and around us
Joining with spirit,
We will mourn your corporeal existence,
But aim to know you on an entirely new plane,
Just as you will come to be,
May we know you more,
In memory,
Then we ever imagined of possibility.
I want to comfort you,
With words that I fight back,
Because they would be lies,
In honesty,
I don’t know,
I don’t know how this will all work out,
If plans will be dashed,
If,
When sickness will hit us,
If death will miss us,
There is so much,
I do not know,
So much you should not have
To be weary of,
To be aware of,
All I know to do,
Is hold you as close
As I possibly can,
And pray away the virus,
Which your way,
I beg it doesn’t go.
Tonight the glow of ripe moon
Shines through closed window panes,
Sends shivers of thought of you over me,
The heavens our beacons never fail to elicit such a response,
Winter snow makes the shine twofold –from ground just as from sky,
Lunar light engulfs my dreamscape,
As I lay me down to sleep,
And dream that you are here with me.
This is my practice,
My prayer,
To the spirit of existence,
To the spirit of light ,
To the spirit of what moves me
To craft symbols into words
That move the eye
and maybe the heart.
I had never seen a wolf before,
At least not from behind a pane,
Until yesterday,
And in a fraction of a moment,
I saw it,
I saw you,
Wounded wolf,
with eye pendent
And you should not have moved,
But you did,
and the life in you
is what disturbed,
And I prayed for you,
For your pain to be ended,
For the bullet to come fast,
For you to find peace
in your next plane,
You are my sibling,
I saw it in you,
In your gaze
In your sentience,
Wolf, I cannot imagine your pain,
But I can imagine your life,
And I prayed you lived this one well,
May you find another light,
In another life
She of Letters 