Heading for a Broken Heart

She’s
Headed for a broken heart
She doesn’t know it yet
But I think she suspects

She
Recalls the guy she left
Cryin’ in the drive way
When she left him that day

She
Went to where love lives
She was sitting on a chair
Another girl was there

His
Mama and his Gramma
His whole family
Was there to have some tea

He
Leaned over the table
Whispered through his mama’s hair
“That’s your daughter over there!”

She
Looked to where he said
It was the new girl he had met
From his college days jet set

She
Was the girl no man could have
She just laughed and kicked the fools
She was well equip’t with tools

She
Looked at the girl in the chair
Looking at the man she wanted
With sad eyes oh so haunted

She
Looked at the newest girl
That girl looked back at her
Then looked at his mother

He
Was smiling happily
He had most everything
A young man like him could dream

He
Walked right out of her life
He left her standing in the drive way
The day he went away

She
Knew soon he would find out
The same thing that she learned
About how you get burned

Life
It always comes around
No one can stop the time that comes
When you get what you gave plus some

Then
You have to see the truth
Or be doomed to repeat
Failing to complete

I
Write this from where I stand
Knowing what I see
Once again will be

This time it won’t be me….

Under The Closed Door…

…a slice of light shines from the long white hall with it’s shiny, black eyeball watchers embedded in the bottom of the upper floor. Under the door and through the light I escape the glassy black eyes and their impersonal stare. I rise to the sky-light in Winter’s still moonless night cold humid cloud fog feels more dense than the glass whose atomic structure yields to my unsubstantial existence.

You have called out to me.

This form feels no cold.

I am weightless darkness moving across the earth upon the winds. The updraft of a stray trade wind throws me aloft into the jet stream. 300 to 400 miles per hour I speed as the jet snakes past oceans and continents. I will reach you before you wake up, look in the mirror, and douse dark curls with water and look at your black eyes in the small mirror above the sink. I soar East and the sun has not yet shed a ray into the nascent skies.

I feel you. You are wearing that semi-circular torque around you…drawing me into your atomic structure…

…into your dream.

“I have come.”

You lay on a green hillside sprinkled with tiny white star-flowers. Your lashes brush your high cheek bones soaking in the sun before it arrives and the call to prayer breaks the hush of dawn. Your face smiles with the peace of the moment.

I look at her through barely opened eyes. This has always been a talent of mine: to call these creatures of the wind. She is small and fair like the flowers. Snow white curls blowing in the mountain wind framing a child’s face. She is one whose age means nothing. I say nothing. She stands there and moves, carefully, until she casts a shadow on my face and I can see her more clearly.

Green eyes. Slightly pointed ears. She does not look centuries old.

“Come…”

She moves over the earth without touching it and sits beside me. She lays her hand upon my chest and understands I am also not human…not in this place. Her hand is small and her touch is like feathers. Without words she lays down next to me and curls up very close. I hold her easily with one arm. The breeze blows her soft blue dress over the hairs on my arms tickling them and making my skin laugh. I can feel that she feels, too, the ground move beneath us. 

What a lovely creature it is who called me, who holds me so tightly to himself. Still he seems not to have seen me but I know him too well. This world is only overlaid upon the one we live in. I slide my hand under his leather jacket and feel the hairs under the cotton shirt making it stand away from his body. I feel his skin laugh under the material. Birds fly overhead speaking their chirrrrrr chirrrrrr language and somewhere drums beat.

Maybe it is our hearts that sound like thunder in counter-point?

The wind makes trees sing with the birds and the drums of our hearts make a music beyond the sound of humanity. My hand climbs to his face. It needs no mind to make it move. He still says nothing. Over the short beard my fingers stray to his lips. I feel a thread spin through my ether as he takes my fingertip between his lips and starts what I can imagine…

…I slowly pull away and cup his ear in one palm, curving it so that the wind sings louder.

“It sings for you beautiful one.”

His eyes open. Within them I see all the light and good things to my darkness. He is Day to my Night…Joy to my Sorrow…mirror of my soul.

“So it always is that darkness comes clothed with light…”

“So it always is that light creates the shadows of Time…”

Inside I become outside and outside she becomes inside. Sweet smells come from grass the colour of her eyes crushed for the sake of Love. 

Now both his arms encircle me as the sky does the planet and he pulls me on top on his long slender body until my arms frame his face like a pale halo and his long dark lashes sweep upwards, white teeth flashing into a smile. His eyes hold me like his arms hold me and the blue dress from the sky flows over his legs while my knees rest on either side of him, barely touching the ground. Green grass tickles my toes. The world sings a chorus of birds and hearts and the voices of the trees.

Fierce joy rises up in me. I want this one I have called to me; to serve and protect and love. One hand moves without thought to the soft white curls dancing in the breeze and cups and tangles and her sea green eyes close as she gives her mouth to me. Her hands tangle in my hair as well.

His mouth tastes like well water. I am thirsty for this kiss! Sing birds that fly! Sing for this love! Beat drums! I feel the love he cannot say with words pressed against my belly.

The first ray of sun reaches it’s greedy fingers over the pregnant earth. Azan is called.

I awake in the middle of the night.

My arms are empty.

Oklahoma

Today the sky is high deep blue
I have not seen this sky for 40 years
Oklahoma wind gives voice to trees
Chills on my neck and back
The power surges from the land
Magnetic force from ground to sky
I am the axis
Lean into winds iron pressed
Red dirt homeland
Pure love embraces with that Unseen
Would push me to the ground
If I was in the grasslands tall
I would allow this I would fall
Nature’s arms encircle round
Delight in entrance of the dream
This ground upon which my feet stand
Up from it comes he dressed in green
I am the axis
Had I wings to bank and fly
With caress of my True Love’s hand
Chills on my neck and back
At clover-side there a bee feeds
With nature and without fears
Today the sky is deep and blue

Grey Slate Red Granite

Fluttering freely ribbons in the mountain wind
Loosed from bare branches 
Scooped by unseen hands into the skies
Thrown into the sun
Tossed down deep canyons
Draped softly over grey slate red granite
Tears of colour flying
Crying while unseen giants tread
Cities still sleep in broad day
Away so far from real
Go higher
Go where many are to weak to stay
Rare air
Larger gap between the neurons jump
Richer blood more red
You cannot defeat stone if flesh
Alone with only alchemy
Nature or Nitrogen High Blue
Ever green smell drinks yellow light
White softness blankets grey slate red granite
Obstinate LIFE stays to breathe
Oh how the colours dance in flares 
Stares man as the skirts snap 
Sticks catch the fire 
Light the night with day
Away so far from real
Fluttering freely ribbons in the mountain wind….