I just want to hold your hand as roiling thunder storms
To let you know it was your touch – t’was then I was reborn
I just want to dance, rain drenched, entranced, electrified
To hold and taste and feel, and see the lightning in your eyes Continue reading
In this bright World Between the Wires
Where length and breadth and height are naught
Where written word can incite fires
And concrete facts cannot be taught Continue reading
I never expected this:
This bright, still-burning ember
Brings you almost constantly to mind;
The way I can’t quite help but remember
The way it felt when you were a little bit mine… Continue reading
I see you there
Blue eyes
Pink hair
Peaches’n’cream complexion
And looking like
Butter wouldn’t melt
Whilst I know
Beneath your
Picturesque perfection
Whirls a storm
Of wondering.
Wandering, adrift;
Mapless, or sometimes
Without signpost
And the gut instinct
That maybe
You’ve gotten lost.
Out it pours –
The many-pathwayed
Multi-layered
Kelidoscope-splintered
Rush of thought,
Falling into words
In desperate bid to make
Sense
Of anything.
Of being.
Of being HERE.
Of being here and who and how
You are, and why
You make a difference.
Which you do.
Unbeknownst
For as you wander
(And wonder)
You leave a little trail
A smattering of breadcrumbs
A trail of glittering lamps
Within the gloom
Of unknowing
And gradually
With each brave step
You show a way
Of being
Something,
Because your Something
Means something
To someone.
Each day
You’re leaving
Footprints
For others
To consider
Following.
Very few people (well, maybe more people than I think, in fact) tend to inspire poetry from me as instantly as this poem happened, but it happened anyway, in response to something my friend Rachel E. Bledsoe, of Misfits of a Mountain Mama, said.
