Reaching For The Rain

Another Monday filtered in,
Enticing, and rapidly racing,
Like my weakened heart,
It’s come and gone;
Chores are done;
My spirit lies incomplete,
As sordid envy,
Enclosed in the refusal to forsake all others;
My heart still has a price to pay.

Then for a moment,
A brief breath away,
From the depths of seeming madness;
I gaze outside this window,
Framed. Alive. A beautiful barrier.
I see the rain…

Its raining again,
Pitter-patter raindrops,
Crashing gently against the dry, thirsty earth,
Crashing violently against my parched,weary soul;
The awareness of an endless storm raging within.

I’m on the inside,
And it’s still raining.
I see Love in the rain;
The labour of an unspoken grace;
The fortitude of being vested on the inside,
Sentenced by the power to resist.

I can feel the rain falling on me;
The freedom of residing in the inner courts;
Who’s to judge it’s worthiness?
As I navigate the threads of truth;
A limited pursuit;
Soul-less, drenched and dried.

Remain on the inside,
There where the rain still reaches;
Quite the words that intend to bring solace,
And clad the purer parts of you in a trench-coat;
Do not fear to tread upon,
The many colours of secret spaces
And stay silent in the midst of peace.

Come out of your hiding place,
Like the umbrella who brings
A yearned for freedom,
Under-written and undeserved;
And cover my vacant soul
Before it starts to rain again.

Until Forever Lives Unopened…

Love came and Love ran
as fast as a violent wind.
These pensive euphoric thoughts,
seemed to have birthed the omen within.
Feasting on visions of the white veil;
Will his heart stop?
But Love came crashing down;
And it was my heart that stopped.
Devoured in seconds
like a scavenging vulture;
With all our hopes and dreams lying
like scattered debris along the roadside.

It was sudden and it was tragic;
It wrenched my heart and it tore my soul,
As Forever quickly faded into nothingness…

Seated at the table of his first touch;
Will my soul explode?
But Love was never born.
Exceeding the dictates of coldness
And morbid excuses;
As distant as the fascination of
a directionless ship;
No compass. No North Star.
A shadow. A smiling imposter.
Blinded by his pretentious rays,
I kissed Love’s cruel counterfeit;
And Deception the mighty ruler reigned.

And I am the one who missed your voice;
And I am the one who will love the one who’s unloved;
Soaked in healing rain;
The glass will mend while the cracks remain;
And I am the one who stores you away,
And there you will lurk sealed and safe
Until Forever lives unopened

The Poorest Promise

The delicate voice of conscience called,
As I listened in the quietness of my soul;
There where secrets began to seep and overflow,
There where answers began to unfold;
Deep and damaging,
I had them received.

The serpent bit. I was his prey.
Wading through erroneous emotions;
Years wasted on a festering foundation;
Shaken by truth,
Awakened by the poorest promise.

It’s a place I never wanted to revisit,
But the fire burnt through,
And built an entrapping hedge;
I could no longer breathe;
Arrested in the heat of all the blank spaces,
And everything else in between.

It manifested like a man-sized,
Mannequin beast;
Hurled careless words
that cut deeper than a knife;
Like fighters in the rain,
Raw, lethal and exposed.

The power of an undivided heart;
In the thickness of the night;
Such a priceless theft,
Of the cheapest known vow;
Retreating to advance,
But never to be visited again.