Saving grace, whole heart back in your arms, you hold all of me as me; I never knew how non-words could feel the best route. Unspoken is our reset, mutual forgiveness, moving on but not leaving anything unaddressed. We understand, silent resolutions, in the simple language of love.
Do you mind if I stay extra near awhile, to just exist in this balance, a respite from the drama of being so much?
Sometimes (more often than not), I exhaust myself with this wild heart and wild soul I house.
I must part ways with you now, dear Darkness; Light is forlorn without its Laura,
my aura is dimming the further I drift in this alluring cradling away from attempts
of putting forth the efforts to swim back up toward Bliss:
I still hope, believe (barely), that it exists.
A parting kiss…
Yes, I know that means I will have to let go, for now, of that dream, but I can keep the parts that were seeded, for weeds they are not; I feel it, in that new spot, how I can nurture it into something beautiful still…
I return to the isle from a distance, leave a trinket, so it is known I’ll always be near,
our mutual love
could never be spelled,
no linguistic language
to transcribe these feelings
when souls communicate
in spiritual understandings,
through touch and glances,
in light and irises,
we commune, begin
Dangerous to dream, I know. Foolish to fly in a bubble! Either could burst without notice, drop you fast in a plummet to the hard reality surface.
But what if…
the trajectory was directed by angels’ breaths and the bubble made impenetrable, a shield only able to be forged from the past, and you were gently lowered precisely as intended by the benevolence of your higher power assisting you in the navigation toward your heart’s deepest and purest desire? What if the bubble met passion’s fire? And in the ashes two phoenixes rose and began new life and left behind all the rainbows found in bubbles?