(For the next week while I'm away from the computer enjoying the wilderness that is Alaska, I'll be sharing posts that led to the miracle baby boy we call Elias. I'll be writing live again on August 1st. Until then please enjoy these glimpses into the past few years.)
Twilight Musings
For Nicholas
My muse sleeps by my side
He breathes soft evening secrets
He eases into exotic places where
Familiar faces appear from far and near
I cant hear their voices in the land where unconscious dramas unfold
I’m told dreams are sporadic messengers I should tip in the morning
I’m learning to listen to my nightly wanderings
But I’ll never travel the dream dirt roads of my lovers mind
Never wind through his midnight forest grove
Never discover his hidden garden
Without trimmed hedges but with… wild edges
Never uncover the searching roots to his spoken flowers
In this twighlight hour
As I lie awake by his side
I find myself wishing I was inside his mind, not mine
I’m fine with who I am
I just know as close as we grow
I’ll never truly know
Never read his script
Never sip his soul
Never grow lilacs from the same watering hole
No amount of communication filled with
deliberations, explanations, translations or illumination
Will open the station
Between our two mental nations
I cant cross the border
There are no papers visas or political orders
To give me free access
There can be no access
I live here
He lives there
There is no where in between to meet, except
Perhaps
In the country of
Rumpled Sheets--but even there
Where words aren’t what we need
Where our bodies concede to connect the distant poles
Of our minds and our souls
His thoughts escape
Untold
His mind unfolds as I write these words
All I see is the rise of his chest
The curve of his nose
The river line of his lips
His waterfall lashes
His skyward cheekbones
I see all the unrestricted zones that allow me to
freely explore
That first attracted me to want
To learn more
As I study this map
To un-chartered land
I understand
It’s the mystery
That inspires the poem
And the poetry is what tells me
With this man
I am home
Wonderful. Like you, my definition of my lover is HOME. It is as if the two words are synonamous.
Posted by: Zanna | July 24, 2006 at 06:00 AM