see us, gazing

LL Ori_Orion Nebula_NASA_HubbleThis is me and you saving the part that you want me to admit the answer to. That the parts between us want to touch, no different than before when we first began exploring about me and you, not lying through my smile.

Remember when I heard you whisper the first time, and you heard me without my speaking? I want to return to that moment, and state of being too. We were powerful then bridging beyond words to a place where sentences and phrases didn’t matter. The spirit speaks when musing and delight take over, along with wonders and desires to know more, to know everything.

My look toward you, into you, was authentic. Was it sad? You knew without a smile what I wanted. You knew as I grabbed my stuff, strong and powerful. You knew where I’d find you in my mind within moments. You knew you’d be there too.

And still I can’t help but cry a little that you didn’t take me away with you in that moment and whisper in my ear the words I’ve known, the language, the words floating above us waiting to be spoken.

When you placed my head gently against yours to hold me closer, I felt all that you know. I heard you say why but you know the answer and its source; because it’s still the same, hidden in your anger, in your lure and my regard. You no longer see through; you connect. You are there now with your eyes. I feel the difference in me now and then, in morning and in evening. My gage is you.

I want to be magic–a force you gravitate toward without reason and even smile when you know the reason. As you are dear to me, especially when I wake, especially when I’m tired. Your fingers run along my arm toward my heart, reminding me to never forget who I am.

An active clarity shining like roots, interspersed inside keeping us safe. My heart knows in silence how you link to aspiring my insides awake. I can write my way to you just as I look up in the sky at a cloud as I float.

Don’t you think that it’s time to be more than we are, more than our eyes sensing. You can take me now to the part where our worlds collide in the dimly-lit room. A candle lights the way to look at what we are, still eyes gazing in the direction of us, shadows behind us flickering.

© r.e.l. 10/8/15

Submitted to Rebelle Society 10/13/15

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as if hidden, you are this

bluetreeI am hidden. Are you? As if to be hidden behind words that speak illusively, at all times, bouncing off buildings and walls. I shoot an arrow and it comes back to me. Some day.

Who are you anyway? Are you the words or are they merely what comes out when trying to speak? There is no time to leave important words unsaid. I speak of eloquence.

Inspirational times with comic undertones spark a tune in another. Sometimes. But, truly, it’s all for you. You who deserve to be timeless and unforgotten. You are where my eyes open to receive what I’m waking up to now. I am here now because you were there and smiled and felt.

Create. Create all you can be. Be creative. Be daring. Be you. I will walk with you, and you will walk with me. But don’t forget to be balanced, be calm and be all that you should be behind the eyes of you. Don’t tell anyone if you falter.

My calling is you, an obligation to fulfill. You are what begs to flow from me, knowing what to make of it along the way, unsuspecting. You occupy the space between sentences, between thoughts that hang and then drop.

You are my arrow I shot long ago. It came back to me with its secret. It told me with its fire: be the you that wakes up in the morning, still groggy, remembering what exactly went on the hours before while dreaming.

Your image burned in my brain fills me with the opposite of order that I need. I let you build up so that I can understand you better. You give me the power to say No. You allow my creative—my unknown—to surge, to cascade. You are endless and you are real. You make me want to write a story, phenomenal, of us. As a river raging knows my name with impatience trickling, in an instant I am known. Finally.

But it’s just me here now writing… and, all I have are my verses wondering how to get through to you. I seem to be writing as if from a distant land when I realize that life without you isn’t possible. I want to stay there in this moment forever. You are the river that I once swam up, I swim again. Stay with me, you whisper.

© r.e.l. 7/17/13

Published on Rebelle Society  5.10.14

[This is Behind the eyes of a writer™: A series, part fourteen. Continuing on from a dedication, part thirteen in Behind the eyes of a writer™ series, I tear you apart in pieces to unglue what you’ve become. Part fifteen in my Behind the eyes of a writer™ series is next]

the shape of you

myview950the shape of you
has a ghost
always with me
in my mind
your hand clasped in mine.
you give me your mind
to steer
i take it
there’s something of me in you.

until our story can continue, inevitably…
its metaphors already…
when in a gaze
all is known
all is accepted

i’m there with you then

© r.e.l. 1/5/14

Published on Medium 3/16/14

Published (first half) in Micropoetry 2/6/14