This is not a war
and there is no you outside yourself
It’s just the passage of thoughts
and fleeting feelings,
laying themselves to rest for awhile
inside an impermanent body,
which you also inhabit
as an everlasting spirit.
Part of being
is life becoming,
all in this together,
and nothing in nature is exempt from this change.
So notice how we change with you,
refined for our next revolution,
even the rivers and streams have currents.
Turn up the volume,
alive and pulsing through your ears,
life’s screams in daily whispers
‘You are here, you are here’.
I’ve noticed the change,
where before clouds would pass
now this weather is still.
Torrential rain or sunshine rays
and I observe from above,
untouched by the daily gusts of wind,
I am holding this self in place.
Something stays with me,
I cannot put my finger on it,
but a trace of your soul remains in my days
and I’ve never felt more peaceful.
I trace yours
with intentions sent across ocean waves.
Our love spans continents,
don’t ask me how
you exist so close when so far away.
Today I’ll sit right in the middle of it,
in the thick, dense, lush bustle of love.
It does not do me any good
to exist on the periphery of this one.
Feel the pulse of my heart beat
as it runs through your finger tips
and turns your lips the richest mix
of red and pink. Forget all future things;
now is for sinking into our spirits,
the way yours sparkles through your eyes
and I’ve lost all doubt in universal signs,
spellbound in this spotlight for as long as it shines.
You’ve conjured up an aura that preoccupies my mind
with fascination for how the chapters in our stories
might use the time these bodies
find themselves writing the same lines
on the same side of the page.
The human heart
in search of a hand
that will hold it when the ache starts,
sharp bursts that break apart
our cold exteriors, tearing a hole
through calm atmospheres.
Craving someone else just to be here
to hear us shatter
and understand our cracks in the pavement,
how we fall through the gaps out of fear
of losing something worth saving for later.
Clinging onto the bruises that might matter
as if they are clues mapped out on skin.
Wearing ourselves thin,
instinct starving by the second,
till we can’t tell where the road ends
and the souls of our feet begin.
Spread your fingers wide, arms raised
towards the sky, like the sun
is pulling you to new heights,
to open spaces now that your hands
are no longer wrapped tight around your body
with impossibilities repeating.
Meet your feelings as peace doves,
treat their wounds, gather up their spilled blood.
Let the daylight soak into the scars on your exposed skin,
breathe in to your love coming home.
It’s high time for a change,
you owe it to yourself
to travel for miles on clean stretches of road
and boast of progress.
Cling onto the minutes, every good second
that makes you feel alive.
The map that guides you
may not be mine too,
but we can stop here at this pub for a drink or two,
the shot we have to spill our souls
and I’ll take it like we only have today.