She wasn’t a beauty in the
perceived physical sense
But,
she was perfectly beautiful.
No, she wasn’t without flaws,
(for, none of us are)
But,
she was perfectly perfect for
the hearts made to love her
in all that she was
and,
when her eyes gazed into mine
I saw the universe through her soul and
knew without doubt she had freed my own
from its eternal quest to know true love.
In silence we can reach that place
that oh so elusive plateau called
serenity
and with serenity comes
Awakenings.
A steady flow.
A slow opening of the heart and soul
in ripples of thought which seep
through the walls we build
rising to the surface, finally
…to breathe.
In silence we are at ‘one’
Battles fought and lost
in inner rage are
gone as new enlightenment
floods the soul.
In silence we realise
the future doesn’t just belong
to those of us who dream
The river lives and breathes
again, free of winters freeze.
It’s steady rhythm, the
beating of a heart in
time with mine.
Soothing
moving me along in its
harmony of song.
Rise and fall with the tide.
I too fall and rise, for
the river runs as deep
as the deepest
parts of me
Sets my soul free to
come and go as it glides
in that timeless
liquid flow.
It sees me aim as high as
I can fly on peaceful wings
beneath a moonlit sky as
our dear Lady Luna presents
a host of diamonds in
dazzling display to
shimmer across the river
and…
My mood.
True jewels of the night
which gleam for my delight
or anyone who cares to
share the dream.
I weep my silent tears that
no-one ever hears
nor knows occur
except for her….
My darling, lady moon.
She knows my secret sorrows
in all of my tomorrows
yet, never betrays those secrets
already told.
She’s big, she’s bright, she’s bold
and daring but yet, delicate and
oft times softly pale
caring only for her moon-child
minds well-being.
I tell her everything and
she sits there listening
never condemns
nor apportions blame
as she shines up above
on this one, she so loves.
I speak to her in whispers
of dreams that never came true
of years of silent waiting
for someone such as you
(my mate in soul)
who found me
but cannot be with me
much less share my life.
So, my lady moon
I turn to you once more
weep these silent tears
for the one that I adore
pour out this sorrow
from my aching heart
knowing that those
milken drops of mine
will reach the safety of your
Blue-moon hue
and that my secret sadness
is forever safe with you.
*I read this about this painting and have to agree:
“Summer Night is a purely poetic composition. Do not look at it as a picture; look at it as if it were, say, the drop curtain of a theatre, for then it would not seem at all strange, but on the contrary a very unusual and very beautiful curtain”
So, taking the pic for what it is, and the title being a bit like Shakespeare’s Midsummer Nights Dream I also went with the dream theme.
Dear Angel of the night what a
beautiful sight you are
Awesome indeed.
Did you know expectation
failed and, I was in need?
I never asked you to listen to
my life’s affair or plight
and yet here you are
appearing from somewhere deep
inside those oceans in my mind
where thoughts sometimes swim in
a downward spiral of the never-ending
kind.
Angel of the night take me on
your fantastic flight of
imagination.
I dream of flying with you
but then…
…you know I do.
Is that why you’ve broken free of
the sea that’s threatening to
drag me down to its bottomless pit.
Did you sense me drowning?
Angel of the night, I will never
surrender your light
nor sink beneath the oceans
weight inside my mind.
You are all the goodness there will
ever be in me
so take me on that flight and
never give me up nor, let me
count the cost
for as long as I have you my
soul is never lost.
Lying there
feelings now unguarded, bare
laughter tickles
in feather light strokes
floating across a soul’s peaceful
river of thought.
A longing too dark to be seen
but still felt inside the dream
memories of coldness in
days without sun
yet there is no surrender
…no forgiving yield.
I cannot undo the done
and, a faceless someone
wishes me ill
Shoves into the midst of my dream
scares me into rapid heart beat
pulses race against doing her will.
The harshest voice I’ve ever heard
broke the news in shouts of gloating glee
‘You cannot dream what is not.’
Stifling fear she seemed so intent
on planting, I looked beyond her
to see my beloved white dove flying
once more, to guide.
To glide me through the horror
of the dream and lead me
away from those dark depths of despair
following her endless light
she’ll see me safely through
the rest of the night.