If we turn the Earth a revolution backward, we will find ourselves gazing at the first daylight, exchanging our first hellos, unawares of the several more we would exchange each day forward. And here we are on the 366th day of good mornings, taking us back to when the skies opened up their graces upon us.
The stars shone fiercely at the close; they’ve been watching over us since. A sparkle for every kiss; “Good night. I will see you when the sun shines.” And it reflects in your eyes; a twinkle so sweet in noontime kisses and afternoon snuggles, turning tears into crystals we wear as charms on our skins.
That if we so much as step under shadows, they can’t but fly back into the depths of the well where they belong. As this little ball, the pale blue dot we call home, resumes its rotation, I extend my hand once again. Will you hold me through this next ride around the sun? Together. Onwards.
Through This Next Ride Around the Sun January 1, 2023
Maybe somewhere there’s a version of me that has wings for arms. Maybe I own a chariot I can fly in the night to take us to the clouds while the world sleeps and asks nothing of us.
In that world I can whistle to command the storms back to the heavens and fall as little drops of dew to cool us from hot weather. There’d be no floods for they will recede before they rise when they hear my voice and cower forever to the seas.
And all that color your thoughts black will dissolve at my touch back into the void where their screams die and come back as pretty tunes to make you smile. But I have none such power and my voice often sounds a whisper too meek to dare to speak.
I have only dreams to wander where I’m half as strong as I aspire. I stand a mere hopeful in a world where I can offer nothing grand. But my hopes spring from truth that it’s you I keep in the innermost depths of my heart.
With I can go the distance, a million lifetimes over and over to see my journey with you through.
I am starving for words locked away behind a boulder, in a cave of fears where hide vicious bats that prey on meister blood, and steal inspiration to turn them into stones they hang on moldy walls. Thieves and forgers of doubt in unsuspecting dreamers.
I come to the hatchway to face their king yet they have none. Only mercenaries of the dreaming guarding nothing but counterfeit jewels that don’t glint in the light. Unwelcome though I am, it is my words I’ve come to claim.
What moves the rock but your smile in my mind’s eye, which lights up the cavern of hopes turned lifeless. None mightier a spell than your name I speak to break the curse and return a hero in your eyes. No higher honor; no sweeter sacrifice.
We saw a funny picture in the city that twice broke my heart. You held my hand for two hours while we laughed, and we came out to a world that’s changed; a world that now laughs at goats and heroes each time we remember. And we will remember. For the world now breathes but cackles in the air.
Its belly swells with memories of moments we’ve made, ever-expanding with the stars; it will never go dark. For the sun that scorched our backs while we went ‘round in a boat will keep lighting our days. No matter how many sundowns we see; the gondolier’s voice will hang in our ears no matter how many songs we hear.
I cried a tear in the night but you wiped it with a kiss, filled with a promise of the next sunrise we will greet together. And my heart smiles at the city twice renewed. I shall live twice more hopeful, my eyes locked in the sky twice brighter; twice surer.
Claps of thunder have been heavy lately like giant rocks rolling on my shoulders. What little respite taken away at daybreak when I bleed from the littlest pricks, crying tears stemming from a bottomless well, cold, unforgiving of my one misstep at its brim.
And its walls begin to close, halted only by the light of your smile searing the darkness, parting the fast approaching doom from either side of me. Like a staircase beaming from the temples of the goddesses in the stars, sparkling with the beauty of your heart.
Hide me in the comfort of your arms, my one remaining solace from this deluge of sorrow devouring all but the promise of the day I will hold you again, back in our garden of dreams where dawn peeks at the beginning of each hour I am in your arms and you are in mine.
Staircase From the Temples in the Stars July 19, 2022
I miss the scent of a thousand roses that bursts from the wall in your presence, the warmth of crackling fire while rain pours outside when I hold you close until we’re an atom apart, breathing from each other’s mouths, and the constellations inside us warping to burst together.
I miss the glow of your cheeks when you see me pass from one corner of the room to another, sneaking in a kiss I can’t help but ask before I walk past, and coming back for more until we’re lost under the blankets again, while the world spins mindlessly around us, until we resurface.
But hold me close in your dreams. I will step out of the cloudlands into your waking world soon after I collect the words I’ve been stitching together from my heart that I may offer you a humble revière of all the sweet nothings we’ve exchanged and will again next time the roses bloom.
You pull me like a magnet to where fields of cosmos lie endless beneath a golden sky as the sun dances in its zenith to the music of our souls. There where its light hits the patch of darkness in my spirit, washing it off the rubble left by swarms of beasts from my infernal nightmares.
The force you cast each time a smile forms on your lips cools and softens the heated molten rocks that had clung to my countenance, falling off the pink petals under our bodies as we lie rid of strain and disquiet. And the sludge turns into dew at their touch.
In our paradise where the sun sets only when we close our eyes to dream, the cosmos wards the most vicious intruders in the quietude we’ve found; here beside each other while horns resound and thunders clap outside our sphere, until the next sunrise.
Far more than enough, far more than I deserve, far more than you can, you make my life and this world far more than things to endure. Instead life is one to love; instead the world is one to see and belong, not the cross they were for one to bear.
Far more than you know, far more than it shows, far more than I say, your touch can change a sad day to one where tears are at bay. And the present is far less cruel, the past is far less frightful; the future far less obscure.
Far more than the magic you bring, far more than the songs you make me sing, far more than the good in all you do, you make me want to be better, too. For my heart is far more than glad that of all the ones I could have loved, I’ve chosen you; a love I’m grateful to be true.