the moon*

“Yours is the light by which my spirit's born: - you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” 

{E.E. Cummings}

Tonight we stared up at a full honey moon, large, hanging heavy in the midnight blue sky. Its soft, cold light reflecting on the ink ocean, wavering, almost dipping into its dark waters. A distant beauty, yet for just a moment almost within reach. I stretch out my hand... and feel you right there next to me. Once again I am in awe of you and your unconditional love. You will never leave me nor forsake me. You are constant, your love secure. I do not deserve it.... I fail you (I am sorry) and yet you love me still, for that I am eternally (indescribably) humbled. You are my treasure, you are precious to me, your worth is beyond measure and I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to show just how much you mean to me... I love you. Thank-you will never be enough.

before I sleep

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

{Robert Frost} 

A dream within a dream*

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream? 

{Edgar Allan Poe}

Sometimes all you can do is keep from crying. Until tomorrow*  

daring to dream

"Deep into the darkness, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no moral ever dreamed before."

{Edgar Allan Poe} 

A fluid stream of hopes and dreams*

Standing in the shadow of the wings. Silence descends backstage and all quietens around me. All I can heard is the blood pounding in my veins, the rush of adrenaline, the shouts of the coming performance. 

The curtains open. The lights come on. The stage gleams with a thousand possibilities. 

My heart beat quickens, by breath catches. I feel a drop of sweat trickle down my back. My pulse picks up. 

The music starts. The beat moves through me and the melody beckons. It all flows, a fluid stream of hopes and dreams to be expressed as the body moves in visible poetry. My soul is stirred, my spirit revived, my heart sings its secret song. I take one last breath. False eyelashes in place, hair pulled back, glitter sparkling, lips rubied... and I take one last step. 

I dance. 

a love poem

love's desire

love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.
but if you love and must have desires,
let these be your desires:

to melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night

to know the pain of too much tenderness.

to be wounded by your own understanding of love;

and to bleed willingly and joyfully.

to wake at dawn with a winged heart

and give thanks for another day of loving;

to rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

to return home at eventide with gratitude;

and then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips

Kahlil Gibran