Epitome

How did it happen,
How did everything transform,
A strain of music,
A melody overheard
In the sparkle of your eyes?
You were a picture
Extravagantly admired
Shimmering starlight,
Two pair of eyes, then, we met,
Suddenly blazing desire.
An ozone shedding storm
A fierce current between hearts
Thrived until we merged,
A heavenly symphony –
Love, we were both and befell.
Our together is
A portion, given delirious, free,
Pleasant abundance
Outside all expectation
Gorgeous truth, mystery.

Symbios

People have entered
Relationships simply to
Learn who someone is,
Because understanding this
Tells us depths about ourselves.
We, everyone, has
A fascination, hidden
Beyond our insight
We harken to the others
To illustrate life in us.
We feed our need on
All the ones invited to
Circle, they on us,
We require much love given
Also, share utmost,
A mirror clouded metal
Reflecting and enlightening.
Love we are and become
Our closest ones we allow to be
Who we are, who they see,
Knowing us all empathy.

Attempt At Why

Where the words come from
The space that births each piece
Hallowed heart healed soul
Running warm as bold passion,
Cold uncovered Winter lands
The catch of a cough, hard,
Smooth tones of a close melody
Sung by a Spring roused dove,
Careful magic, Handwritten,
Secrets all given nearly away.
Yet, few discern how, what,
Is seen through such window,
As the aquamarine and white
Delicate lace curtains breezing,
Pull revealingly, appealingly
Aside, for puzzlement dominates,
But a writer may invite
With effort, join the reader
Such that minds meet, release
Lofty innovations, wild free thoughts,
So essence transmits, is caught.
However, the life of words
Is tied to a far foreign shore
Where there are difficulties
With innocence of travel
In the trouble of this technical
Ridden, cynically inclined time.

Wield Love

The world is sore, hurt,
Hearts are aching, some breaking,
There is a need, more;
A light to shine against darkness,
A love to restore hope, dreams,
A requirement here, now, to meet,
To wrap snug comforting arms
Around those who weep for peace.
We each are an answer for doubt,
Fear, pain, hurt damaging, deranging
Others, liken to who we are,
We give the hands, hearts, lives,
Provide at this moment
And wield loving care, ample goodness
For the benefit of every soul
Residing in this troubled world.
We are chosen, given faith,
To stand for love, sharing blessing,
Finding delight in the company
Of those presently escaping night.

That is the last of what I have so far written. Maybe I will relax, but I do not count on it. When the words wish, they come. I cannot turn them away as if no one were home. Did I, I might later find they would stop. Yes, I have some superstitions about this gift, talent, that makes no sense being given to me. I let it have a place and time when it chooses. I think my life would be a desert without it.

Thankful

Gratefulness ensues
Because even in poverty
Of diminishment
There exists surfeit
Of blessings and no
Lack of need fulfilled.
Many gifts are present
To keep the self together,
Content with assortment,
Equal to abilities;
Examples provided
Regular exhibit.
Aware Christ inhabits
The world as assuredly
As these words proceed;
His provision is
A presence undeniable,
Praises rise to Him
Accrue, always, forever
For all is bestowed by
Bounty of His grace.

***

Writing rattles in
The shuttered windows of mind,
Begging them open.

***

I took a nap after these because I slept only three and a half hours overnight. Caught two hours.

***

As a prompt, if you are able, create something that denotes your experience of gratitude in life. What you are celebrating now, or perhaps how the quality has changed.