Poetry: But Not Without Her

A bright light
shined into my life
for the smallest of moments
and became
another one of the moments
that makes me need bright lights.

I have passed
through so many small spaces
I wonder what is left
on this side of them
of me.

I am fit for nothing
but sleep.

“I am right next to you”,
she said,
from across the canyon.

“Why are you pushing me away?”
she asked,
as she refused my attentions.

I say, “you are in a glass case”
She says, “unlock it”
I say, “I am worth it…next time you’ll break it”
but she never does,
and sometimes I have foolishly
for the damn key.

By now
my Relationship Museum
is nearly large enough
to charge admission.
Most mornings
the nightwatch guy
doesn’t know
whether to laugh or to cry.

Visitors question the veracity
of certain events
and wonder if displays are accurate…
fact or fiction.
I always say, “just feel your feelings”
after all…fact or fiction
that’s what I have to do.

I might be strong because
of what I have survived.
I might have survived
only because I am strong.
But I could just be a fool
playing games with words,
and tricking myself
into calling myself

But even fools find love
The kind that doesn’t just live
in your heart
or show you full color
renderings of fantasy.
Even fools find something
they can share with another,
like meals
or held hands
or eye contact that is warm and soft,
or children being raised,
warm cups of tea…
but me, I do not seem to have even earned
the rank
of a fool.

Is virtue some great reward
or is some great reward the
result of virtue?
All I know is
to thank God
that I learned to love
having neither.

They see me like I am meant
for someone else.
I see that they are usually
someone else…
a moment too late,
to realize how connected
those two things
really are.

In the end it’s just me.
6 years later,
I am still here.
forgetting that after 6 years
it’s still just me.
Some days that’s wonderful news.
“Yes!  It’s just me!”
Some days it’s ho hum…
“Yep, still just me.”
Some days I estrange everyone,
“this is just for me”.

I don’t know if she is out there.
I only know that I am in here.
I do not trust anyone who approaches
to follow through.
I do not trust myself
to reach out
tumbling ruination.

I only know that I am in here.

My oh my…the lives I have had
to have
to bring me to such a sacred place.
For I never would have chosen
this particular ashram

I am in the forest…don’t find me.
Trees tell no lies
and I wish to be made out of bark.
I only want to see
growing things,
bright and green…anew.
I don’t want to die,
I want to stay here
long enough for this place
to become  a place
I want to live in….

but even that truth
and the strength it would take
has a veiled and honest silent calling…
“But Not Without Her”


About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
This entry was posted in Poetry, prayer, reincarnation, relationship, single parenting, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Poetry: But Not Without Her

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