Love

One Last Time

/ MiCo / Leave a comment

Seashells and wave echoes

swirled and laughed in the emptiness behind my eyes.

But now I have let them go, sent them away,

unlocked the door and set them free.

The remaining empty space is vast, but quiet, and soft.

Yet never truly empty despite my best efforts

for when I’m not looking, the wave echoes return to roll around the edges of my inner space

once again.

They blend with a stillness that never stands still,

and become a part of the flow and wash in the space behind my eyes.

It is an expanding space that can hold everything and more.

More me, more us,

together in the completeness of warm love and peace.

So come my love, kick off your shoes and dance with me again.

Listen to the song of the seashells and watch…

watch the empty space fill with us and only us.

Catch the wave echoes when they come around again and

this time,

this one last time,

never

let

go.

That Missing Part of Him

/ Stone Meadow Poetry / Leave a comment

Does she know?

Doesn’t she feel it,

That piece of him that has gone missing, again?

Where does it go, where does he take it and who does he give it to?

Does she know?

I know.

It isn’t lost, I have captured it.

I hold that missing part of him.

The part that she is missing.

The part he gives only to me.

The pieces of him that I can’t have are far greater than the one she misses,

but at least I know what to name it.

The Light of a Million Suns

/ Stone Meadow Poetry / Leave a comment

His hands are weightless,

His smile, eternal.

His eyes hold all the stars in the universe, the light of a million suns.

His energy charges every cell in my body and

his love powers and drives my nightly dreams.

When he speaks to me, his words feel like a warm soft blanket

draped with love over my shoulders.

His voice comes to me in the silence of meditation telling me to stop,

to let it all go.

He tells me that good will only come to me after I throw out and reject the darkness.

He watches in silence and sadness as I try but fail over and over…

He knows he can’t do it for me.

I know I can’t do it for myself.
   

A Story I Tell Myself

/ Stone Meadow Poetry / Leave a comment

A Story I Tell Myself

It is a story I tell myself.

I repeat it over and over until

it becomes my story, my plan, my hope and

for a while, just a little while,

I am able to convince myself that it’s all true.

It sinks in, it makes sense, it’s easy and right.

Yet it remains just a story I tell myself but

Sometimes,

sometimes,

Even he believes it.