Sounds and Whispers

In a clear moment, when I have no idea what to say...

My heart expands with emotions untilled-
a frustrating, aching proposition
of moral tides
and faint whispers
of words unsaid and feelings not uttered
and of circumstance shattered,
of keen hopes battered.

 
 Languor and anger
and hatred and strife
to tell of a toll on stretched, unfettered life.

Why are you here?
I thought you had left,
literally taken a left
taken a break
and yet...
here you stayed.

Wide-eyed and wondering 
a heat-barren post
devoid of the hope
for which it stands
for you are, by far, no ordinary man.

Light and ritual
have teased our hopes, 
our declarations, once bold type-face,
now laden with heavy ropes.

Ransacked visions,
fragments of resolve
Deep crease of grimace
Smile lines dissolved...

These pieces of a dream--
this equation we wrote
symbolizes vague symbolism 
of things we reach to be.

A hidden approach, void of pain or vanity, 
the expectations we hold so true--
the escobars and minotaurs that lurk,
hidden from view.

Why should it matter, 
the whens and the whys?
Because a glimpse of redemption
could lighten these blood-black eyes.

A glimmer to force the courageous shoulder back to the grindstone again
Brief freedom from the litany 
A syncopated rhythm flashes across the window pane.

Gleefully smitten, and washed about
Handsome hands, gallant arms,
soft warm lips that speak no harm.

My sweet, safe dream
and the wings to bear it
The life I crave; the love to share it.

Time capsule unearthed
by wind and stealth
Inside of you, I find myself.

When the wind chimes meet 
their conquering breeze,
This bliss shall set your mind at ease.

That moment the chamber is gently unlocked,
Time will shudder
and stop the clock.

No time, no space or chronology,
no baited effort to make mockery of me.

No prism of light
to cast anger or blame
it is you; it is I; it is we again.

Let's capture this rapture in our souls-
they are the same.
Breathless and guilded, you reach for my frame.

Textured and glistened the stone casts our claim:
The mastered dominion of what is ours to maintain.
In Gestation-the sound has cleansed away his pain.