Patterns on our soul

Wandering in a time of danger.
Leaves me shaking.
My cheeks all rosy red.
Winter, creeping into my eyes like tears.
But inside, it’s all warm.
All still wet.
Gushing a crimson love that is full of elation.
Utopic movements cloaked in everyday actions.
A sideways look to you.
Words pulled from my mouth like pearls.
A cough to breathe, bringing up sand and seaweed.
Having dredged our love from the bottom of the ocean.
Down in the depths where the wreckage once lay.
There is sand in your eyes, sparkling like gold.
You lick moments over me now.
Silky and familiar.
Once a comforting lie, now this time a truth.
This is now, the place we have crashed and shattered into.
Burning still from the fire.
Fading away in the rain of a thousand lifetimes.
Let me suck that eucalyptus air from your lungs.
For I only want to breathe now, if you are breathing.

A Future sprung from a many thousand wounds

The universe crept closer, seeping into the open wounds.
Its voice hushed like the sound of a million stars.
I must say this to you.
The words confessed, expressed and digested.
Some lost in the confusion of expectation.
I thought you were stronger, I didn’t see the scars that still bleed.
He nodded in knowing, in seeing the everything there in a moment.
Nobody’s perfect, he coughed back, time leaking from his mouth.
You were once much stronger, but each time around you faded a little.
Now the version before me, has too many cracks for what I gave.

He sighed, and closed his eyes, wishing he were as strong as they wanted.
God never spoke to him this way.
He always moved in shadows and light, avoiding the reply like a child ignoring consequence.
He knows that, he knows it hurts. But that is not why he doesn’t reply.
The universe spun out a sentence which made the floor ache.
His heart dissolved in the hearing, and was born once more in the understanding.
I never knew, I had begun to think he didn’t care.
Your strength I see, lies elsewhere.
And with that, it left, letting fate swim across his eyes like coy in a crystal pond.
He once more stepped from the past, onwards.
The future, taking it all away.

An immediate future

Tomorrow drips in it’s yokey gold.
Offering the treasure of yet to be.
A sparkling beauty of opportunity.
Casting minds back into the dark.
Searching for answers in the rooms of yesterday.
Taking time to pray.
Asking God to push us onwards.
Into the light.
Into the storm.
Too long have I sat waiting for the world to split open.
To flower and bloom like spring.
For the great wings of fate to fly.
Catching me as I fall to climb.
Yet all there really is, is now.
The tear on your face.
The laughter in your eyes.
Each moment a prize.
That should be savoured in the moment.
For time yet to be and been and gone.
Is just another setting sun.

The Death of the heart

Through hollowed tears that paint the walls.
Cries a thought, uttered more in lament than desperation.
The lights fading.
A love abating.
The prayer for a heart on the edge of nothing.
What demons and ghosts stole it away.
Which angels plucked it from the earth.
Has god really written the last passage in its tale.
Or has the other heart deserved a second chance?
These questions lick at the mind of fate.
While others close their eyes to possibilities.
They lost the beat, the rhythm of love.
Those roots that went deep, tangled and clogged with mud.
Twisted with happenstance and rode the whispered jokes of time.
All beneath the silent wings, and bells ringing out a new era.
While eucalyptus air fills the lungs.
And we cough up the oil of yesterday.
For heaven can wait, while paradise before us blooms.