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
And looking like
Butter wouldn’t melt
Whilst I know
Whirls a storm
Mapless, or sometimes
And the gut instinct
You’ve gotten lost.
Out it pours –
Rush of thought,
Falling into words
In desperate bid to make
Of being HERE.
Of being here and who and how
You are, and why
You make a difference.
Which you do.
For as you wander
You leave a little trail
A smattering of breadcrumbs
A trail of glittering lamps
Within the gloom
With each brave step
You show a way
Because your Something
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.