Reach for me
You, whose face
I cannot yet see,
Find this place.
I wait, in colorful song
To know the beating of your heart.
Wondering, when I will belong
To the one who will be part
Of a life, long dreamed of
Not made manifest
Love rises above
Stories professed
Now, tell me a new one
When your path crosses mine
The story’s begun
It’s transcended time.
A noisy silence in my ears
A thousand songs of love and loss
Hope and despair
Joy and sorrow.
Ah, but life is for living
Not regretting.
The songs fill my heart
And I smile.
Who has not felt all those things?
They made me grow
Taught me who I am
Breathed contentment into my soul.
I don’t cry,
I remember.
None of it hurts,
It just was.
The good parts
Bring a twinkle to my eyes
But they too,
Just were.
Moments in time,
A continuous story
My story.
And sometimes, yours too.
By Deborah E. Dayen
Painting by Fred Michaels, Saatchi Art, Google Images
Leaf blowing in the autumn wind
Chased, for it’s beauty
Glowing the bright colors of the earth.
She chased it, with all her breath
Racing with the wind
To catch up with the apparition.
It slowed, and she almost caught it.
Teasing, a sudden gust blew it
Just out of her reach.
Across golden fields she ran
Through dark forests,
Obscured by the fog.
Up hills strewn with rocks
Through meadows fragrant with flower
She chased the dream of holding the leaf.
Always, just out of her reach.
Finally, exhausted
She let go the desire
To hold the leaf, to feel every facet
To know it was real.
She watched, as it blew out of sight.
It was hot,
Then it was not.
The chill became palpable
Unbearable
Unreasonable.
Why so cold?
The estrangement from the heat
Boggled the mind.
The closeness of tepid temperatures
Gave way to the distant wind that blew
Frosty air into the lungs,
Into the heart.
Seasons of life
Unstoppable, by one imperfect mortal.
Search for warmer climes,
To keep the lungs breathing,
The heart from aching.
To keep limbs from freezing
In the icy gloom.
It’s a two cup morning,
One cup for each eye.
The sunlight filters into the room
Making me squint.
So I need both eyes open,
So far only one can see.
It was an evening last night,
Wine, friends, music, poetry
Fresh cool air descending on us.
Laughter, good vibes.
Never an unkind word
Or even thought.
That’s what happens,
When people know
Love is the answer.
She was confused
By the fanned flames and
The dying embers.
Her heart,
Became stronger
Able to withstand
The assault.
Pushed her onto the path
The divergent path
Taking her away,
In a different direction.
It’s an old story
Repetitive in it’s telling.
But love remains
Always, and all ways.
There is only the silence of the dawn
Singing gently in my ears.
Singing a song that takes me back
To sweet, and sad, memories,
Early morning coffee and conversation
Wrapped in snugly blankets
To keep winter’s cold off bare skin.
Dawn’s same song says there’s more to come
Different, but loving
Unsure, but hopeful
Sweetness, without the sadness.
A chance to love again.
Sing the song, beautiful dawn.
Lead me to that place of knowing
Help me to find joy from within
And a true lover to share it with.
Reach for me with your solid arms
Pull me in to your breath
Let me feel you wrapped around me,
As the autumn’s breeze skims across the surface
Of a dream once dreamed
When sleep came easily.
A dream of sweet love,
Crescendo of a warm summer afternoon
In utter nakedness moving in harmony
Heated sheets,
Cool tiled floors.
Laughter, long gone.
But remembered
Always.
By Deborah E. Dayen
What was he thinking
As he shuffled down the path?
Love lost?
Love gained?
Life in all its splendor
Or in all its pain?
The late day sun
Cast long shadows
That held on,
Like the experiences that shaped
Who he is,
Remembering,
Regretting,
Exulting.
The path diverges,
Which way will he go?
Right or left?
North or south?
East or west?
Up or down?
The shadows become longer
As darkness falls.
He closes his eyes
Asking for wisdom
To choose what he needs.
He turns……..
The day was full
Of cooking
Of shopping
Of talking
Of drinking
Of eating
Of reading in the sun.
Of thinking.
Of music.
But not of you.
Nowhere to be found,
Not a trace
As if you never existed.
Maybe you didn’t.
It’s been so long now
I think I made you up.
Did I?
Not payin’ it no nevermind.
Long ago
It mattered.
Just a ghost
flying out of the past,
haunting me
and disappearing.
learningtolivelikewaterblog.com 
You must be logged in to post a comment.