Warm Breeze
I thought I heard your voice
echo from the empty place
that fills every corner of my heart and
images emerge without warning
as something automatically
goes off like an alarm and
you appear as clear as day and
I reach to touch your hand
only to feel a slight warm breeze
passing between my fingers…
Innate Progression
There is so little of me left
most things go unattended
while it’s not intentional
it is all that there is available
everything else is being spent
making sure one breath
continues to follow the next
while the heart persists with an off beat
an innate progression of being human
without any magical options
choices are limited to self preservation
one way or another
like it or not…
the sun will rise in the East
set in the West…
the tide will shift from high to low
when the moon is full
there will be a rush of wind from the North
that will blow my proverbial blues
to the South shore’s of Heaven On Earth…
Memories
It’s not any particular moment or day,
special occasion that can trigger a memory,
and that’s what they are now, memories…
images so clear, they are touchable to the minds eye
and with each notion comes a wave of tears that emerge
hand in hand
a perfect fit
with an uncanny resemblance to you and me
when imprints were made
and carefully set aside
for future reference
along with peaceful reverie…
Unknown
So they tell me to reach out and touch reality
grab hold and embrace it with all its glory
doom and gloom can only drag you down
long dark cavity and only one way out
an unnatural exit that has generational consequences…
thoughts never cross that bridge or burn it either,
but when my senses are raw and there are no signs
from the Grand Creator or any cohorts
the distance from here to there
seems long and weary for a traveler
that has lost all sense of time and direction…
not the journey,
the destination…
not right,
left…
stop on red,
go on green…cautionary yellow…
an abundance of recommendations
and all roads continually lead to…
the unknown ~
Mourning Dove
Mourning Dove’s coo
bitter sweet like an aimless breeze
reminiscent of a sad love song
vibrating throughout until it is no more
recognizing all that we can lose at the slightest shift
from left to right
never sensing the ground
as it slips beneath our feet
even as we try to hang on
white knuckling it with each breath
everything in between
each heart’s beat
is a pulse directed to the soul
keeping what we once knew
at arms length
but always there
as a reminder
of how fragile
we truly are…
Heaven’s Gate
Time change and lack of sleep has been
interrupted once more with the morning light
showing up later then my dreams
and with each ray comes a photographic memory
of smiling eyes with a glint of mystery
staring back at me
as if the tears that fall
could be touched by an invisible hand
that once held mine in the night
when it didn’t matter what the next day would bring
we had the world before us
ready to reveal all the bright promises of the forever young
only to be cut short by an invisible demon
that we dare not label
because reality falls midstream
when the pain hits below the belt
and nothing can bring relief
other then my day
kneeling before the Gates of Heaven…
© 2008 Pamela Viscomi Yates
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