poem: on restoring vision

i will see thee, as i saw thee

and know thee as i did;

though better seen thy will be,

where, once, thou was hid.

 

you will see me, as you saw me,

knowing better what i knew;

and that mine eye indeed was clear,

and saw thee, love, and saw thee true.

 

our lips out loud shall speak,

what is whispered in these prayers;

and eyes this time will meet,

knowing love doth greet us there.

for tho’ mine eye is sore

from long denied thy dearest face;

it’s sight will be restored,

and its light, renewed, with grace.

.

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Poem: n’est-ce pas?

a mystery, even carefully unwrapped,

remains disguised

until uncovered

before the eyes, from which

it was concealed

Poem: light to mine eye

through all of the storms that have tossed me to sea;

through fog, smog and hurricane,

and windswept cold quays –

this one thing I’ve known, I’ve known long to be true

these eyes that God gave me,

he gave me for you

through days of warm sunshine and whispers of truth

kissing the skin of the apple that youth,

long plucked from the top of God’s tree;

but that which is love is also

so wise – and love gave me eyes to see,

the youth at the top of his tree;

for though long the journey, ’tis not been unknown

and sorrow not stifles this constant heart grown,

for  hearts never hidden cannot be disguised –

and fear did not paint those starry bright skies;

tis true and cannot be denied

thank you God, for giving me eyes.

 

Poem: fairy tales

 

 

anxiety anxiety

crawling now all over me

am i dragon, fiery beast

feared till bled

from sword released

or just some foolish maiden

without head

who lay beneath the dragon

until dead

Poem: returning, unleaving

betwixt and between –

that is where I have been,

between the always returning

and the heart that anchored

as it cleaved;

 

love

oh love, have i always known you thus?

let it be, let it be

in this heart that bobs along the crest of

coming back, and yet

it never leaves;

oh please, let it be still and calm between

those sturdy lovers arms

again.

Poem: holy imperfection

 

love like a sacrament

poured rich from the vine;

but not to be giddy, tho giddy be fine –

and tenderness plays in the incense divine

but ground me

hold firmly, sweet blood of the vine;

 

that dough that was kneaded

with prayers of great pleading;

come love give my bones

muscles not slack – oh rise, not dissemble,

 on that promise, I tremble

leave me not trembling, ’tis not faith I lack.

 

tho not wretch, but ragged

not much could I carry,

but that which I carry, I carry intact;

and paths may be varied,

with thee, they not scare me –

take I nervous breath, till they bring you back.

 

 

Poem: The Once-Me

I can still see the once-me,

at least from time to time;

the songs she used used to sing,

where voice and music rhymed –

the patterns of her movement,

the little rituals of time;

 

I want to keep that once-me

and the things that she could do;

and though she was afraid

her faith at least was always true –

she gave me that to keep,

and to share, with you.

The now-me, and the once-me

must go our separate ways;

I cannot have her back,

though my heart would have her stay –

(I confess the now-me trembles more,

than once-me would ever say)

perhaps that is a gift enough,

in its peculiar way.

 

Poem: Ghosts of Flesh and Blood

Am I ghost that haunts itself

spirit lost, like dust upon a shelf –

am I real

or

ethereal?

oh for a day to feel

solid

real

not some strange creature

half concealed

are you there

too?

or are we ghosts of flesh and blood

that haunts

where living still?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poem: camouflage

hidden, yet still craving light;

do i convince myself at night?

or are these whispers who I am,

or will be, when light at last relieves.

 

hush! shush! do not speak it loud

but whisper quietly in the crowd –

but when, oh when, can i begin

to speak, at last; oh tell me then.

 

– till there, I must discreetly hide;

please, chide me not

if I should pray, and sorrowfully weep

to God, and beg forgiveness where i have not

 

forgiven self today;

 

i ache to speak the truth of all of me;

out loud

out loud

not hidden, still, away.