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Crossroad
Wish a wish from my wishing well,
'Round the corners of my mazes,
Don't look for me, in that corpsy shell,
When you get lost between the gazes,
I'm irridescent in your eyes,
I'll penetrate your needs,
Beyond your blubbering boldness lies,
An innocence that bleeds,
I rake the crusty ash that coats
The inevitability,
Between what is for you,
And what truly is,
And what you've chose to see,
Don't look for me, in that corpsy shell,
Because I won't be there,
I cherish your essence from distances,
Because I truly care,
And by chance one day we meet within that dusty maze,
We'll gather pieces that we lost when we were in this phase.
© 2013
enjoyed this very much ---
enjoyed this very much --- love -- jb
Thanks burke
It was actually a comment to one of HW's... "Forever attached...". Glad you enjoyed it. It was based on one of my beliefs that love never is wasted, and never dies. It just changes as we do, or it stagnates and flys, and is surely not a 'give and take' with the same person to be returned like a payment for kind deeds. That only cheapens it's worth, and too, the worth of the individual. When people expect a return from love they have it confused with wanting their needs met by the other person. It is not the other person that must meet our needs. It is knowing there is love in the relationship that will meet the needs. In other words, Love is God. People get it twisted and make each other Gods....and it is the 'great destroyer'. Love asks much, and it's return is great, but place no 'gods' before it.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
"the corpsy shell" being the
"the corpsy shell" being the illusion created by the other when they see themselves in you...it is nothing but a 'corpsy shell' of themselves. it doesn't work out, and they are left with hearbreak from their own doing. Get it? First sign of true love is when another softly whispers a cue to look within...not out!!
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
unconditional love is a rare
unconditional love is a rare and beautiful force, to know it --- is to know the one who made it --- love -- jb
Yes!
Yes!
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "