Love

L’homme Délicieux

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how is it possible that God could have poured

so much deliciousness in just one Cup?

it is simply too much for another to sop up!

blowing the mesmerized mind every time,

man delicious,

can’t look at ya,

can’t look away.

your utter exquisiteness

holds such sweet sway.

too fine,

you personify sublime.

so damn divine,

like a delectable glass of rare, perfectly aged wine.

beyond luscious,

you overpower, disarm and intoxicate!

how then does a mere mortal adequately navigate?

enthralled, thrown, spellbound,

I ask my Lord:

why so much scrumptiousness into one Cup you poured?

 

 

Beautiful Man

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Come here, My Dear.

I can feel you so very near.

Come to me,

soon, please-

as per God’s Will.

Beautiful man,

crafted by The Potter’s Hand,

specifically

for me-

as I for thee,

come, let us together journey

spiritually,

creatively,

and intellectually.

You: My benevolent King –

wise teacher, merciful mirror, fierce protector.

Me: Your appreciative Queen-

cinnamon muse, the air you choose to deeply breathe.

We: Blessed

beloved,

bespoken –

coming together

forever

in service to

our Heavenly Father.

 

 

 

 

do you see what I see?

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come to me, Beloved.

come, straight with not a hint of a chaser:

no art on your face

nor hair made up and straight.

come to me in your most natural state.

allow me to see exactly what God done create.

let me see you in the “harsh” Light,

not just undercover “protected” by the night.

My Love, why the masks?

you know I must ask.

why do you feel you must always run from me,

hiding away your true identity?

what is it you do not wish for me to see?

come, Baby.

sit,

breathe,

be.

then,

look

at

Me.

Look into your mirror through my eyes.

do you see what I see-

your great beauty,

that you are infinitely worthy

just as you are

right now?

in your own eyes,

do you see in you the mystery,

vulnerability,

fragility,

abundant curiosity,

and stubborn audacity?

do you?

really?

and of the fine lines indelibly etched on your face-

do you see your long history and humble ministry?

do you, Baby?

what of your beautiful skin-

scarred, marred, unshaven, uneven?

therein, your unique composition,

not crafted to be ignored,

but deeply appreciated and fully explored.

do you see what I see, Baby?

your True Story,

your ineffable Glory.

 

 

 

 

Ready for Love

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I say I am ready for Love.

I say it rather convincingly

but am I really

ready for

Love?

What exactly am I ready for

when True Love comes a knocking on this here door?

More questions than answers have I:

To him, who will I be?

What of his expectations of me?

Will I measure up? Will I fill his cup?

Will he stay

when my mask melts away

and my Light temporarily fades?

What of me –

Can I handle with calm dignity

the unfamiliar masculine energy?

Can I remain present, outside my protective shell

when communication is perceived as hell?

Can I allow a man to be a Man

and not automatically default to the feminist stance?

Can I trust him fully and completely

when I was taught so differently?

That all said,

in my heart and in my head:

Am I ready for Love?

To it, am I prepared to run –

to run toward that inevitable fire

that is intense, illogical hunger and crazy desire?

Ready to let it burn

without so much as a concern,

confident in whatever of me, of we

remains?

Yes,

I

am!

Been there once, years before.

Now,

I am

I know

I understand

so much more.

Come, Love.

 

 

 

june fifteenth

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four years ago today

an irreversible change made,

a body violently altered-

“fixed” as it had faltered.

faltered, not on its own, you see,

but from deep fear and misery.

body was made

unwittingly

victim to

dreams too long deferred;

to emotions and creativity

consistently

unexpressed,

and knowing/intuition buried, suppressed.

mind, body, and Soul are One indeed.

why (still) so hard for me to heed?

s0, today, june fifteenth

I re-member,

I honor.

and I to new body do solemnly promise

to cultivate a consciousness

from which

boldly, I sing all my songs,

and no longer is my Light hidden.

So it is written.

 

music (draft un)

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My muse,

what I turn to when utterly confused;

that which inspires

and sets my Soul and loins afire;

a bright Light

to the long, dark night;

the champagne that

not only lightens

the pain

but also

it explains.

My Love,

I cannot do without,

shy inhibitions,

you aptly loosen;

you make the mute, shout,

and the introvert dance wildly about-

as if no one is on watch;

you fill to overflow

with glee and joy

like a cherished Christmas Day toy!

Muse,

in melody, harmony and word,

you provide rich fodder

to be heard, felt and

deeply ponder.

Through you

in you,

by you,

I feel the close presence of my Lord!

I hear His gentle voice

direct to me, He talks!

My heart is

wide open,

softly broken,

sweetly aching.

The tears inevitable flow,

the floodgates, now ajar,

torrential rain, not far.

I relent, well spent:

my Soul, ascents.

Transformed,

informed,

humbled and grateful

to-

for-

the music

only Heaven could have borne.

 

 

 

pleasure

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imagine a life devoid of pleasure, of great joy?

what would be the point?

an elder once shared

that pleasure is an indulgence

reserved for the blessed few with no cares.

“life is about duty and obligation,” elder declared.

even naïve, at the cusp of adulthood,

i knew deep inside that this was a flagrant falsehood.

no, that would not be my truth to bear.

for me, pleasure would be as essential as water and air.

unlike said elder,

i’d tasted pleasure.

pleasure came a knockin’ on my door,

i’d let it right on in asked for more –

eagerly

hungrily

desperately

and unapologetically.

i soaked up pleasure as if it were buried treasure!

there was no going back,

no about-face,

for i’d grown too fond of pleasure‘s intoxicating taste.

i continue to seek you, pleasure

in your various guises and splendor-

to relish in you responsibly

and unselfishly,

sharing you widely.

for this i know with great certainty:

life will bring its bitters –

that is a given.

but,

it also generously provides the sweets

to make it all tolerable and mercifully even.

 

 

 

 

love in-action

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mesmerized, I remain

obsessed, even, as if on cocaine

cannot get enough, don’t stop, but must

deeper and deeper, I am thrust

cannot get enough, don’t stop, but must

falling in “love” and in lust

with a being no longer with us

cannot get enough, don’t stop, but must

tell me, what am I to do,

how am I to be with these thoughts

this bitter and sweet misery

and burning desire to be let free,

to quickly go and join my love in eternity

“not quite yet,” whispers God above

cannot get enough, don’t stop, but must

a boulder stuck in my throat, hot tears in my eyes

love on my mind –

incessantly, sexually, spiritually

“God, please help me,” I plea

don’t want to get enough,

don’t want to stop

but – eventually – must

I remain here

love has disappeared

 

 

 

dear b.,

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first and foremost, I love You.

Your love for Me, in turn, I hold in great and eternal gratitude.

Our relationship has grown beyond that of friends…

no, more like Kindred Souls to this particular end.

hence why the current page in our long and storied sojourn,

feels decidedly like a deep and painful burn.

we’ve always rooted for the other,

always encouraged one another to dream bigger and fly ever higher.

You, perhaps better than any other, know of My wanderlust and constant restlessness.

You have been privy to how My Spirit lifts, is renewed and healed by following My bliss.

So, why now this time, after an extraordinary adventure granted unto Me,

You, seething with anger born of internal frustration and pain, lash out so emotionally violently?

first and foremost, I love You; and from love, great compassion and recognition flows.

I see into You, Beloved B.

I can see the great challenge of living within a body of such fragility,

a body, once so strong (as mine, you may perceive), one designed to walk, to travel, to live independently.

with an extraordinary mind, Spirit and imagination like Yours, you were not meant for bed confinement, relegated to one small room in deafening silence.

we, the “able-bodied” go out and play; you have no choice but to stay.

I see into You, Beloved B.

what would you have me do and say when it is the benevolent Universe that wills all this way?

shall I, in fear of losing you, keep My joy from You, hide, shrink before You, so that You do not continue to resent and dismiss “me” in the depths of your pain?

is that the way forward for us? no, just prideful and inane.

We are better than that, both know better, and have the capacity to do and to be better.

The only question: together, will we?

I see You and it takes Two.

 

 

 

 

 

Home is…

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…where the Heart resides

…where the Soul flies

…where Love prevails

…where authentic connectedness cures all (or most) of what ails

…where one’s Spirit is finally free and can exhale

…where all pretense and the burdensome masks give way

…where your Tribe comes out to play

…where one’s many Songs are sung

…where creativity simply for its own sake is not so far-flung

…where Life is a little smoother around the edge

…where thoughts don’t constantly veer frighteningly toward The Ledge

Home is…

…the Peace that surpasses all understanding

…the Path Not yet Taken

…the constant Prayer seemingly unanswered

…the blissful state of feeling favored

…the real Me birthed and seen

…the Mystery, revealed

…the yellow-brick Road less Traveled

…the ultimate Goal unraveled