on waiting for

sometimes

Words are where I hide, where I release my other side,

 where my heart can  bravely fight the tide

 or thunderously, unreservedly explore. 

 Somehow I always seem to find more

 pieces that once belonged to me alone,

the way pebbles once belonged to stone

 before they'd been roughly chipped away

and their fine edges dulled by sun and day, 

 rushed downstream by the thunderous rain,

 abandoned on a shoal to be found again.

 

My path by the river edge has worn down.

 I drift along in my beautiful new gown.

It's been sewn with divine diamond thread,

pure crimson'd velvet, the deepest blood red.

Virgin white silk  is cloaked underneath

it wraps my body, a gift for my thief.

 Long and glorious silk-scented hair

drifts in the breeze, warm and bare.

 Ambered and honey'd and buttery strands

 hoping one day to cloak his hands.

 

 Feet and hands and face no more torn

 by towering hedges armed with thorns.

These militaried woods that kept me at bay

now protect my fort and I can play,

at make-believe. I've a hero-knight

who in my honour will fiercely fight,

protect my love with his perfect heart,

and from my side he will never part.

I'll wear his colors on my breast,

 and rest my face on his handsome chest.

  

Or I might soar through silvered clouds at night

my fiery wings a captivating sight.

A chimera outlined against the sky

a tailed beastess released to fly.

Searching the eons for my destined mate

I hear prayers of innocents while I wait.

I'll annihilate with my scorching breath

those who inflict suffering and death,

crusade against their barbarous deeds.

These conquests for truth my hunger feeds. 

 

Or vanish quite soon in the early sun.

A flesh dampened effigy, on mist I'm spun.

I'm visible only in water and air,

my fleeting reflection some say is fair.

I have already run out of time today,

tomorrow I'll return with dawn's first ray.

My fragments float away on gentle swells,

as a delirious sea dog my history tells.

Of a fruitless search for the other half of me

'til then I am fated to always drift at sea

 

Or as gold, I'm pure; I'm a trinket of worth

I am the quintessential life and earth,

I'm dug from a precious seam.

A metal that so many deem

more priceless than life.

I can create a wife

and a husband too.

But I cannot create you.

 

I can no more weave my mirrored love

than I can move the heavens above.

Or a proud and fabled birth,

legends told across the earth.

One good and noble King

whose virtues all creatures sing.

He (I) governed with love and care

and made all the ways of living fair.

But nowhere could he find his queen

tho every girl ever birthed had he seen.

Alone he ruled till his time did end.

Never in the years would his heart mend.

 

Or alone in ice and crystal'd form

I am the singular one that's born

as me. I will never live again

not past this snowfallen end.

I have six sides of angles, reflected light 

I am all the prisms of flawless night

I am a perfect fleeting thought.

My creation cannot be bought,

not sold, nor kept awake.

No match for me can anyone make. 

 

Or wrought from the finest leather

burnished with time and weather.

The polished filigrees adorning my sheath

tell fanciful stories of unicorn and wreath.

Scrollwork in brass, my metal'd throat

sits empty, in search of the cherished note

when sword into scabbard cleanly sings

just as hammering glowed alloy proudly rings.

When curved blade slides in fast and true

so finely honed; to know I was meant for you. 

 

I've left my heart open to you

but the cold air has come in too.

I shiver and  wait, still hopeful now

maybe you will discover me, somehow.

It's not the thrill of new passioned bliss

not even our anticipated first kiss

that I covet so very much,

as the familiarity of a touch

made of years lived side by side

our love displayed with sincerest pride

 

As I write here of my secret fears,

touch the stream of my heated tears,

feel this ache to know my love,

I hope for an indication from above.

Is all I live all there will ever be?

Why give me eyes if I'll never see?

Why give me a heart to garner hope?

Give me instead a length of rope.

Let me know the pure love of my soul

allow me to become a whole,

to find my other me, and make my spirit free.

 

My true world has intruded once more 

so I leave these thoughts at the door

Back to the reality of make-believe

Pacing the hours 'til I can leave.

Maybe I'll come back through this way,

hope a little while longer I can stay.

But if I lose my map to here, my heart's home

I willl be damned, always cursed to roam

without knowledge of purpose and without aim

Please, Lord, by then let me be no longer sane.