Waiting for the midnight Sun, To paint those mountains white, A single soul in solemn prayer, As the day is born from night. When darkness cedes its destiny, To the calling of the Sun, It's the Warrior who's standing firm, Against the chaos the night has done. For in his stubborn heart a truth, Learned from wicked, bleeding scars, That nothing can provide his heart, What resides in midnight stars. To his love he knows that he'll be true, To his soul he knows the same, To the voices that try to break his heart, He just stands and says her name. For no truer path has this man walked, Though he's traveled very far, It's when the night hides the path below, He just looks up to find that star. When the darkness turns to blue, And the warrior can sleep, He dreams of a certain poet's touch, And other things so deep. Yet when the night returns again, And the evening has begun, He stands so firm and knows his truth, She is his midnight Sun.
Category: MG (Page 9 of 11)
Let it not be for man to squander the opportunity to love. Love is like a flower whose petals may wilt and whose stems may fall to the ground, yet whose fragrance lives on forever.
With such humility and virtue, he stands before a goddess. Though wounded by time and humanity, he is blessed to be wandering with a kindred who knows well his journey. They walk both together and alone on their way to wholeness, learning that those struggles they’ve endured have now made them strong to the task of seeing their light shine, in the way it must, born to light up the sky.
There is no fear in their space, despite the whirlwind that surrounds them. Embraced upon the sacred ground on which they stand, the voice of love sings Her lullaby, and the Universe conspires on their behalf with the passion of great creation. Out of the ashes have arisen two souls who have watched the world around them burn, yet are now alive to write a story all their own.
Like a flower, he has knelt in humble gratitude to inhale her essence. He has dropped his shield and sheathed his sword in favor of having untethered arms to embrace her. He’s wiped the dust from his lips to kiss her, and shaken the dried mud from his flesh as to not stain her soul. With the truth of a Stoic soul within him he does nothing but love this woman, and with the strength of a warrior he protects the sanctity of her fragrance with the life within him. Never has he basked in such a light as her, and never has a scent been so strong as to move him toward that place where the Sun will rise.
Like a mountain stream, she has bathed in him and tasted the life which flows freely within him. She floats about his space as he holds her firm, and she freely finds her shore when the earth calls out her name. When she thirsts he is her drink, and in her way she realizes that even a tortoise can run when the thirst becomes too great. Never before has she felt such a thirst, and never before has such a pureness filled her soul with love.
Despite what was, they live in what is, which will always lead to what will be. With great care for each other, and for themselves, they begin their story. The introduction over, each page turned will lead them to a masterful epilogue, for they realize that despite all of the stories they’ve once written that this is a story of their own.
“I once had a thousand desires. But in my one desire to know you all else melted away.” ― Rumi
Sweetest, softest cuddling, I lie at death's front door, Thoughts go back to yesterday, I pray for one day more. Legs once held me fast and firm, Now useless to the task, Just one more step is all I want, Is that too much to ask? Eyes once spoiled to the sight, Of a morning Sun reborn, Now blinded to all that is, It's the wasted time I mourn. Lying there within myself, A fire came alive, My story would not end this day, In fact it would now thrive. All that I had ever known, Changed one fateful day, An oath I swore to live again, And never give my time away. Through love and strength and fortitude, A new life there was to live, I could no longer hold the pain within, In fact, I would forgive. Now I run through weathered paths, And climb the hills I see, I love with the fiercest lion's will, A love that starts with me. Blessed I was with sight again, To look into her eyes, Blessed I was to stand again, Underneath our Summer skies. For in the end I was born to be, Tested, tried and true, To be the man I need to be, When I was led to you. A poet born to tell a tale, Of lovers walking in the Sun, A warrior reborn to her, To the heart that is the One.
Come to me, she said to me, And I obeyed. I climbed to touch the stars, Just to fall forever in her arms. Come to me, I said to her, And she did. Fallen from the clouds of destiny, Just to land forever in my arms. In the moment, When our flesh began its enjoyment, We new that forever wasn't just ahead, But a memory of lives once lived, together. Our heartbeats are surely finite, Yet they echo in eternity, A truth beholds its Maker in love, A man beholds a vision in his soul. A warrior though I be, Tears do flow in the moment of our departure. A stoic though I am, I hold firm to the testament of a life worth living. As she departs, As we leave for the spaces we call home, I realize that heaven is where her body lays, And heaven would make a wonderful home indeed. In moments we are parted... I feel the loss of her, Like a drowning man deep in a dark sea, Struggling for the air, I know is right above the surface. I long for the touch of her, Like a wayward soul just trying to find its direction, Lost in a forest of uncertainty, She, my compass, leads me home. A man who knows he's dying has a purpose, To live beyond the measure of his mind, To make fear a slave to his own virtue, Rather than the other way around. A man who has known great loss, Knows the gift of a Sunrise, He waits for things others take for granted, And holds dear the truths that others cannot understand. This man who knows both has found his Source, And sees the wonders in her eyes, Keeps sacred the pleasures of her touch, Forever true to her, the Surface of his sea. Left forever to certain devices, Two souls parted will find their home indeed, For the will of love can never be defeated, The Source of love can never be unfound. It is there that a lost man finds a sanctuary, The Stoic bends his knee in surrender to her pace, A warrior bends his head to sword in quite repose, To the One that gives meaning to Entirety. For when the winter ends, And the battles are all but over, She is there, to take him in her arms, And gently lead him home.
To the kindred One, indeed. May you know the loving fierceness of the man who you have cherished, and the truth of words we create together on our journey.
We find the moment where we look, and in you I see a lifetime.
Parts of mountain springs meet parts of ocean waves in the space where I’ve found you. In the cool air the Sun shines brightest where you are, and in the place we meet the stars attest their promise of moments yet to come. Our human minds may waiver the moment we offer prayers to our future, but the truth remains the same. Love falters not in the promise, but in the absence of the present that it guides us to.
Moments stand prepared to sacrifice themselves to the human endeavor, yet in the flesh we find the essence of the Divinity that gave us life. In the touch of your hand I’ve found the recklessness of my youth and the spirit of my wise, old self. I can get lost in the eyes of a woman who was always my destination, who was always the promise that kept me alive. Through the darkness of certain times I’d wish for you, and in the light of my beating heart I have found you.
Forget nothing of the past that brought you to me, but relive none of it in the moments that we share. Remember the truth of your struggle was not the struggle itself. Remember the victory was never in the falls that we’ve sustained. Remember that the day was never meant to know itself through the night, but rather offer a promise of rebirth to those who survive the darkness. Remember, and know that when you hear my heart beating in my chest that is was never the silence that kept it beating. It was always the promise that one day you would hear it.
I need no vindication for my truth. I need no agreement in what I know. In the sand I see your footprints, and offer gratitude for the sight. In the breeze I hear your voice, and I offer thanks for bumps that have been raised upon my skin. In the Sun I see your smile, and it is that moment that I hear the echoes form to form one song. That song is you. That song is me. Together, we make quite a wonderful harmony.
We can always see demons in what may be. There is no certainty in “someday”, a moment in time that we may never live to see. Here is a truth, one uttered in the pages of the story we shall write together. That promise is that when the fear arises and the demon voices come, you will not be alone. When your shield has splinted and your sword and been dulled to the hilt, you will find sanctuary by my side. When your legs are unsteady and you arms can lift no more, know that I will carry you.
What I have learned in life has led me to this moment. That is how I rise so sure of what I feel. What I have experienced in my journey has made me so sure of the ground on which I stand. From the mist of slumber I have awoken to the dream. What a wonderful morning Sun.
To the One, may forever be known in the moment when we kiss.
The moment.
The moment I’m sitting next to you. The moment when your arms are around me and your head rests softly on my chest. The moment I feel your breath on my skin. The moment I taste your lips. The moment I feel your words even before I hear them.
I live for those moments. I long for each in what seems like eternal gaps between them. It is a lover’s dilemma, this man’s silent suffering.
Before you, I knew the purpose to my aloneness. Now, I see no sense to it save the process I’ve come to trust. I look at the empty spaces beside me knowing they are yours. Where once I enjoyed their emptiness now I fill them with our knowing. Where once I sat gazing at nothing all I see is what we are – a promise need never spoken, an eternal gaze at tomorrow.
Before that moment of our first embrace, I understood the value of my solitude. Now I hear the silence as our song, a hymn written through the tears of yesterday breathing life into the possibility we now share. I adored the single set of footprints on the paths I once walked. Now I know they were heading in your direction, longing for the moment when we could share the view.
One day as we sit alongside a stream throwing rocks toward their destiny, our minds will drift back to times before. Before, when our spaces were empty. Before, when our minds would wonder to dreams of moments where we’d be sitting alongside a stream, throwing rocks towards their destiny. Before, when all we could do was hope.
I’ll want to kiss you. Kiss you in honor of all of those moments I begged the empty air for you. Kiss you in memory of all the times the ether would tease me with dreams of you. Kiss you in gratitude for your arrival, and for the moment your lips finally met mine.
Two souls who live in a lover’s dilemma. Suffer as we might in our absence we rejoice with equal vigor in our kiss. Suffer as we will in thoughts of times that passed we shall find bliss in a realization of our moments together. Suffer as we do in times we walk alone we will dance in joy together, as it was always intended to be.
My words, these words, I am blessed to offer as I take the truth of things that swirl around my soul and translate them into the truth of things I share. Blessed am I, a purveyor of divine inspiration, to have found such a muse in you. Blessed am I, a simple man who shoulders the complexities of his mind, to have kissed the lips of my dreams, and held the flesh of my life in arms made strong for the task.
The moment. The moment that is near, the moment that is coming. The moment great stories are birthed from. The moment I saw you.
We walk along a winding trail,
Bounding to and fro,
We often wonder where we are,
And which direction we should go.
There are those times within each step,
When we find the compass true,
It’s then you’ll ask me where I’ve been,
And I’ll reply “my destination was always you.”
It will not matter what scene we set,
Whether mountain or open sea,
What will count is what we do when there,
When you’re sitting next to me.
Time will bend its will to loving hearts,
Cloudy skies will turn to blue,
For now I walk each step alone,
To the destination that is you.
No more empty vows to say,
No fears will dare enslave,
Two kindred souls born to walk the path,
That will always be unpaved.
So when the mountains hide the Sun,
As mountains often do,
No winter snows can dare keep me,
From the destination that is you.
When my final breath has gone,
And you sit with memories,
You’ll remember the moment that we met,
In the wild springtime breeze.
You’ll whisper words of kindred love,
Remember scenes of marigolds anew,
You’ll say to me, “wait patiently…
…my destination was always you.”
I will often find great inspiration while meditating. Here is today’s inspiration, unedited and unchanged, written exactly as it was gifted me. To her, the One.
Morning meditation:
How does one separate a flower from her stem? How does one fold her petals when she blooms? How can one place her essence in his pocket rendering it hidden from the world, taking her color from the bush, plucking her beauty from the garden?
How dare the breezes tease me with her fragrance and entice me with her beauty! I cannot inhale with tasting her, and I detest the exhalation that separates us. What dare I do when the thought of her separates me from my senses?
To trust in this process, to remain open to the potential of everything beholden to the promise of nothing, is the answer. We swear our oaths based on moments sure to pass, owing one moment to the promise of another, linking things best left unlinked and grounding Angels to an earthly stone. Say we set them free. What harm do we think will befall us?
Love is the wind that scatters leaves in the forest and lifts birds to lofty heights. Without it the leaves are left to rot and the birds are left grounded to a certain demise. Let me not love the ground so much as to never kiss the clouds, nor love the sky so much as to never find a flower, kiss her in repose and love her in the only way I can.
For this I ask humbly as I stand.
I taste you,
On the tip of my tongue,
Like the words of some great song
Remembered in a heartbeat.
Faint, like a bonfire in the wintertime,
I am awoken to the memory of her flame,
My truth will never be the same.
I hear you,
Echoing through the caverns of a past not yet lived,
Sweet words caressing me in my slumber.
Great fortune touches me on the forehead,
Gratitude weeps from my every pore,
A song that bears her name,
Her truth will never be the same.
Do not fret,
Your calls have not been forgotten,
Your voice is etched in the annuls of my heart.
A spoken truth like leaves dancing in the wind,
As a willow weeps and smiles just the same,
Its truth will never be the same.
In our joy mountains move and oceans kiss the rain,
Solemn love gave hints of time to come,
Your light poured through the cracks in my soul.
Hear my truth as my fingertips touch your skin,
There, in what Venus shall proclaim,
Our truth will never be the same.
I swear I heard a flower bloom,
With the smile upon your face,
And I swear I smelled some sweet perfume,
As we shared our happy space.
In the end of fabled land and sea,
We find ourselves alone at last,
As if some written destiny,
A feast to end our fast.
For love is not some printed book,
It’s as free as empty air,
It is never where you might look,
And yet it’s always there.
So know that in your lips I find,
Heaven’s pearly gate,
And in that perfect sweet behind,
An impetus to wait.
In a mountain’s summer breeze,
Feel my hand upon your skin,
Turn and kiss me if you please,
Then let me slowly in.
Because our two hearts forever one,
United in an anthem for the ages,
Have discovered something in the Sun,
Foretold by poets and their sages.
Tomorrow is best left to other hearts,
For today is our domain,
If lightning strikes and thunder starts,
We’ll be rolling in the rain.
Laughter finds the wounded mind,
When fear is laid to rest,
It’s then we leave the past behind,
To put this moment to the test.
Do not fear where demons tread,
Or care too much when Angels speak,
For devils sing to helpless dead,
And Angels to the weak.
Just walk with purpose born within,
And stand tall against the storm,
For it’s not fear of saint nor sin,
That was born to keep you warm.