Wind in my face
wind at my back
how small am I
how insignificant am I
why does the wind bother with me
proving simply that I am alive?
don’t want to turn in
desperate stillness indoors
jostle me some more
feel something external
lend me some vigour
push my feet
let me back out
to feel alive
be one with the elements
bow with the trees
bend with the grass
let it shape me how it will
you can have the sun
take the rain
keep the snow
wind is all I want to know
send me sounds
send me scents
speak to me in whispers
howl at me
interrupt that sound track
bring me back
But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.
Silentium Amoris – Oscar Wilde
When the world shows you a lute that hums without effort, hums from mere awareness of another, resonance of two souls entwined…
how does one live again in the land of mere mortals?
Five foot two, eyes aren’t blue
They are black as night and deeper than any ocean
How can you fathom what is at that depth?
Certain are the mysteries that never end
Always wanting to know but never do
Is it the possibility of learning that’s the appeal ?
Or is it the little glimpses that reveal a thread
Keep me going and ever curious
Will my questions and interest open up or cause her to be furious?
The depths mask a spectrum of emotion
Supposedly evident to all who look
Clearly I am clueless or too captured by her spell
All I can say for certain is I have never been so enraptured
My spirit fully and truly captured
Exposed and vulnerable, yet protective of her
I yearn to stare into those depthless orbs
Her presence is equally soothing and exciting to my soul
Never do I feel as alive and at peace at the same time
I want nothing more than to see her soar
Give her all she wants and more
See her happy and as fulfilled a the fates will allow
I thank the universe, the gods, and all who will listen
that my eyes have been opened to this beautiful being
and my foundations rattled to the core.
I wish I could provide the comfort that Kipling describes in this lullaby. How can I convey my hearts desire in mere words. Even Eric Whitacre’s beautiful musical rendition only provides this peace and tranquility for a few moments. How is my lover of seals to take heart from my heart?
Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us,
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, o’er the combers, looks downward to find us
at rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft be thy pillow;
Ah, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, nor shark overtake thee,
Asleep in the arms of the slow-swinging seas.
– Rudyard Kipling
Enya conveys this in a way no one else can. The pathos that her voice, lyrics and music evoke make these emotions so present.
Perhaps I need to listen to heavy metal instead!
Where are you this moment?
Only in my dreams.
You’re missing, but you’re always
A heartbeat from me.
I’m lost now without you,
I don’t know where you are.
I keep watching, I keep hoping,
But time keeps us apart.
Is there a way I can find you,
Is there a sign I should know,
Is there a road I could follow
To bring you back home?
Winter lies before me
Now you’re so far away.
In the darkness of my dreaming
The light of you will stay.
If I could be close beside you
If I could be where you are
If I could reach out and touch you
And bring you back home
Is there a way I can find you
Is there a sign I should know
Is there a road I can follow
To bring you back home to me?
As always, some beautiful views from the Dragon’s lens 😉
My floppy bunny makes my world go ’round
I once was lost, but now am found
she makes me work hard for her affection
but oh how beautiful is her inflection
if my heart could sing, how loud and sweet it would sound!
When my heart is full, it might explode,
near impossible to contain, mountain tops lookout
the sound must escape, the world must know
When my heart is empty, the music laments
the love that feels lost
so fragile is the balance of hope and heart
does the flame flare brighter with ache or song??
My bunny is tough
she can be rough
a smack here, a punch there
he always comes back for more…
a glutten for punishment, or desperate for love
tender, tough, or whatever she has to offer?
– Jack C. Hobbes