Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Turn Around -- poem

It’s no one’s fault, but
of course it’s so
God damned easy to
point my finger
(at aforementioned Deities or)
at whoever is poor enough, to
be close to me.

Try not to punish, condemn Me for
asking you this favour.
You’ve always loved me, I know it, I feel it-and,
I can believe you know
I adore you.

When did that point sweep into
my life?
That pinnacle, marking
the Truest Loss, as if
life turned me ‘round,
my back to the Sun.

I remain burning, blind, to Love and
all Nostalgia, belonging to you-
me-to
us, Long Ago-
instead I linger,
facing frigid Night.

When did it change? so that
instead of fear, I bask in
the darkness, welcoming its mysteries?

When will I return to face
the golden possibility of
lightness in Love-from
a new Spring?

Would you offer some sign?
Slip into this mortal plane,
defying laws and bounds, to
show me you’re near?

Although I’m not afraid of
darkness and the moon’s frosted rays,
I do fear the emptiness; the
winter of endless, mortal Time
without you,
spinning me ‘round so I bask in
the Sunshine so I sleep soundly in
my night and can freely
give my heart to
a shining, deserving

Other.

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