Narration of Life

The crow still watches.
Strangest days are when music is played,
But the children do not dance.
Tears flow from eyes that see the darkness 
In nightmarish trance.
For her future sins, she says
Three Hail Marys in advance.
In the flesh beauty is adored,
But tired souls pull away in constant balance
Yearning for transcendence.
The light that is within is dimmed …
In death, eyes are closed,
And in birth, eyes are again opened.
Solace is doggedly sought,
But even by the wealthy, it cannot be bought.
The weeping of the children signals the horizon
Of a new beginning.
Who can fathom the deep emotions
Of the hearts of wounded men?
Love is found for a season
And then disappears again.
Memories of love resurface in the winter,
But there are no more passionate kisses by warm fires
Or tender hearts for shelter.
The callousness of life strikes and tears asunder.
The poet’s pen writes of love and heavy sorrows;
From a deep well of affliction and lost love,
The words he borrows.
As pen hits paper thus begins the concerto;
The violinist starts off slow
And ends in thunderous crescendo.
Emily Dickinson sings and writes anew
As she gazes out of her window.

Survive

With tears, the infliction of mortality was fiercely debated.
Memories of childhood joys appeared, but familiar faces were faded.
With a mixture of hysterical laughter, murmurs, and wailing,
The final act was finally abated with a crumpled note nearby,
With a name at the end stated.

Transfiguration

Discovering our true selves, we are the light that shines;
We are angels adorned in white with diamonds in our eyes.
A dream long sought and finally realized —
On that day we shall be transformed and beautifully reborn
Leaving behind forlorn, fear and the sorrowful years of many tears;
Embracing the shedding of our old shells, becoming butterflies
In the sunlight of the summertime, gently coming to rest
On broad leaves under shady trees, feeling the wind blow 
Over and under our wings, listening to Blue Jays sing,
Dauntlessly displaying our gorgeous array of colors
And preparing to fly again. 

Love Envy

My own thoughts slay me.
The torment of the lonely
Are long past memories.
On the other side of the mirror I drown,
But they can’t see me.
The black pitch consumes
Everything in totality.
When love left me
The fallacy of normality
Was shattered utterly;
A couple walk by in the rain
And kiss passionately …
I stare keenly;

Suddenly, I am overcome with envy.

Oh you men of war, will you not fight?
You scribes and poets, will you not write?
You sorrowful and desolate, will you not tell of it?
You great orators and storytellers,
Will you not let your voices be heard?
You lovers of decadence, will you not indulge?
You long downtrodden and desolate,
Will you not state your claim in angered passion?
You upright men of valor, will you not give your lives for your children?
You beautiful mothers, will you not be their comfort and their strength?
You aged ones with beautiful silver hair,
Will you not impart your wisdom upon us and tell us of the years?
You eagles, will you not soar and spread your wings in heavenly winds?
You rivers and streams, will you not be my peace?
You tempestuous seas, are you not blue and deep?
You who hold back long held tears, will you not weep?
You of my kin who have gone on before me,
Do you not live through me?
You who have been kissed and held by me,
I love you deeply, can you not see?

Transformed

From the pressure of pain and the fire in us,
In our constant agony we have become walking diamonds,
Rare and precious, to be beheld in our raw form unpolished
Yet flawless, in beautiful array of different shapes and colors,
Shining brightly under the heavens, one by one coming out of the darkness
With a long trail of tears behind us.

Unspoken Vows

Black waterfalls flow over white silk pillows.
Through sweet honey you speak to me.
Without heels you stand at 5’4″ naturally. 
Glistening rivers in mid spring are your skin;
Your eyes are a revelation of the heavens.
The contour of you neck is beautiful and feminine.
Your silhouette takes away my breath;
On that night, we became one under the light of the stars …
From the crown of your head to the soles of your feet you are adored.
Let us lie together so I can eagerly whisper, mi amor.
Words can’t be spoken of deep love and sincere emotions.
The flow of your sensuality is like the movement of the oceans.
You are my comfort; you are my warmth.
Without your presence and your essence I am lost.
Sing me a beautiful song, and let me rest my head
In the ataraxia of your arms.
The softness of your skin is akin to endless rose pedals;
Your scent, white gardenias in early summer.
In our lives we have both suffered
But have now found healing in each other.
I have had many lovers, but you are like no other;
Your understanding of my character is a natural wonder;
The way you read me is certainly uncanny.
Through loving brown eyes is how you see me.

Epilogue (2):

She finally found herself after the turmoil and the tears,
Though the process of her healing would take several years.
Her heart was delicate, but the people she trusted the most never protected it.
In fact, they were the ones who tried to break her spirit. 
A stark lesson in the realization that the ones you love, don’t always love you.
The lowest point in her story was when she recognized that it was true.
The heartbreak she must have felt places the reader directly in her shoes;
Seeing the coldness of the world through her eyes and those sleepless
Nights she wailed and cried, is enough to make the reader cry;
Even more so, is the fact that she was abandoned 
Even though they knew that on that faithful night she could have died.
Her triumph in the late chapters served to be an emotional roller coaster.
I have a feeling this is just the beginning, and her story is far from over.