I can trust, That as my truth rises from the abyss, The light does not frighten you, And that you can hold the hand of such a resurrection. I can hope, That as the power of my heart shakes the fallen ash, and turns to embers the unholy bonds of fear, That you walk with me through the quaking. For what is this life about, If not the quakes and shakes of transformation, In the bleeding wounds of warriors left to die? Reborn, Seeking pleasure in their honor, Finding desire in their truth, Knowing love in the scars the demons have left on mystic flesh, Like hieroglyphics, Scribbled in the sand. I can pray, That as my wings sprout in the gashes left upon me, That you will hold my hand to fly by my side, And not to hold me to the ground. I can wish, That as you see the views of love from lofty heights, That you will kiss me even as the lightning strikes, Knowing I will burn before you will ever feel the heat Come scorching through your shell. For what is this love about, If not the growth of heaven's wings, And the flight of Angels who have fallen so in love? Soaring, Peeking from the other side of stars, Laughing as clouds of truth cleanse their surrendered hearts, Tears of joy, Falling like rain. Do not seek to find me in the grave, For I will not exist in that eternal prison, I am born within your heart, And I live within your sacred graces, Close your eyes and find me there - your truth resounds, I speak your name in reverence of all I was born to do. Let others be mystified in their fear, But walk with me in matrimony of truth and love, Let courage be our name. Seek not diamonds, for they are falsehoods of the highest order, But find my bond in my footsteps, In my tears, In the very breath that flows across the back of your neck. But know the symbol of my humanity is real, Like a ring placed in a sacred oath scoured into the rock-face of my life, Too deep to be weathered by the winds, Or washed away by the floods of demons sure to pass. We, you and I, Will walk among the redwoods, Kiss the sea with our bonded hearts, Taste the mountain air with lips made ready in the morning, Raising the soul of the Earth simply in our embrace, With our hands held firm, We kiss, and the heavens explode in what should be. For isn't that what life and love are all about?
Category: Poetry book 2 (Page 1 of 2)
When does the waiting end, my Willow?
As the breeze blows gently through the tides of time,
As the Sun rises dutifully beyond the plains,
I wait, patiently, for that day to unfold.
There are those moments,
Intense longing through the rhythm of love,
The stoic stone harbored deep within my soul,
Cracks…
Dusty refuse falls, lost in the abyss.
One day, if I am lucky,
I will look at my wrinkled hands,
And wonder where the time has gone,
Seeking just a minute more with you,
My heart not wanting our moment to reach its end.
And I will look back upon the Spring breezes,
Spent alone, talking to the trees,
Time well spent,
But not with the tree I love the most,
Perhaps then I shall curse the solitude.
Then a memory of the Summer dreams,
Left unanswered as I beat the drum alone,
Dusted chills running down my aching flesh,
As the rain washed the sweat from my brow,
I hum a song meant for your ear alone.
The Autumn comes,
And the rusty leaves scatter in the chilling wind,
Squirrels gathering hope for their winter stores,
I seek the warmth of a fire lit by your eyes,
But, alas, I find the embers of hopes yet to be realized.
And then, the winter returns,
A single set of footprints in the snow,
A heart drawn with purpose on a settled stone,
A lone finger etching truth upon her flesh,
Repeating the mantra as though it was his own…
…Patience.
I watch him walk away,
That son of mine,
A piece of me much younger,
Now getting older,
Causing me to count my remaining years.
Memories of your first breaths,
Arms and legs flailing in disarray,
A mind and heart born so innocent,
Life poured out of me as you held me by my finger,
It filled your hand back then.
Recalling your first steps,
That smile, that laugh,
Some things that have never changed,
My boy, how fast the time flew by,
In an instant life has changed direction.
And your first words,
Your personality flowing joy and laughter,
You made me laugh right from the beginning,
So much of me there is to see in you,
I struggle to keep you from repeating the mistakes of your father.
The swish of a diaper
Now replaced by the sounds of sneakers on the floor,
The sweet sounds of baby talk,
Now conversations of a young man speaking his truth
To the older version of himself.
The once-soft skin laden with baby jiggles,
Now becoming strong in the burden of a larger frame,
Context notwithstanding, what a powerful soul you are,
You want to grow up so fast,
I beg you to please slow yourself down.
For one day you may be me,
Watching the best part of you walking away,
Heading towards his own destiny,
And you will hope,
That he takes the best parts with him.
For now, I will watch you head in your own direction,
A tear flowing down my face
Toward my heart, a heart filled with love,
For you are, and always will be, my son,
And I am, and always will be, your dad.
© 2019 Tom Grasso, All Rights Reserved
The fish has never said to the sea,
“How is it that I exist with you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You within me, me within you?”
The cardinal has never said to the sky,
“How is it that I embrace you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You surrounding me, me inhaling you?”
Like this, my soul has never said to you,
“How is it that I have found you?
How have we found ourselves together,
You loving me, me loving you?”
We know the answer, you and I,
We wrote it on our page long ago,
Before the first breaths of our infancy,
In a journal left for us at Heaven’s door.
We used to meander about some desert plains,
The salty taste of a kiss an oasis unto itself,
We used to gather wildflowers at the base of a great mountain,
Dancing in the fragrance until the Moon touched our skin.
We used to gaze from the seat of a high summit,
Dreaming of the sea,
We used to bathe in the depths of love’s great ocean,
Talking about one day climbing that mountain over there.
Things we’ve done before this lifetime,
And things we’ve seen since the day we first drew breath,
Have carved steps in the stone to take us to those great heights,
And have taught us to swim in the pool of life, where we have found each other again.
May I never again question the beauty of what we are,
And may you soon not fear the handholds and footholds
In the rockface that gets you to me,
For we were born to know the truth, to live the truth, to be the truth.
For I know now what I knew way back then,
That should I not awaken to kiss your lips again,
I have lived, and will live again,
To find you.
© 2019 Tom Grasso, All Rights Reserved
In 36 hours Hands meant to touch, Will be reunited. Words now unsaid, Will grace the hearts of lovers. Lips left dry by time and space, Will have their thirst ended in a moment. Hearts left weeks to dream, Will embrace the sweetest of returns. Minds left to wonder through technology, Will again find simplicity in love’s togetherness. In 36 hours Things will go back to how they were meant to be, And flames will be united on a single candle. The Spring winds will blow, And truth will be uncovered in absent desert sands. The bright Sun will rise, And warm their flesh together. The stories will be told, As their words bleed on the canvas of their lives. In 36 hours. That’s all it takes. Forsaking the hours past since their last kiss, Ending the torment created by the empty space In their nook. 36 hours. Let it be, That my life continues for at least that long. That my breaths get me to that space. That my heart beats strong toward such a destiny. A simple prayer from a complex man. 36 hours. 36 days. 36 years. Fovever.
A click Like a penny tapped on a hollow stone, Tap…tap…tap The seconds tick by too slowly. A drip Like a summer rain falling off a weathered leaf, Drip…drip…drip Time tests the patience of heart and mind. Thunder rolls Crackling hard through the windswept willows, Boom…boom…boom Awakened to the truth of fleeting life. Clocks spin I cannot stop the hands from counting down Tick…tock…tick Wasting time counting seconds passing by. Tombstones align Neat rows of stories long forgotten Tap…tap…tap The penny taps on hollow stones again. If only love remembered…
What can be gleamed,
From a single strand of hair?
From its tip,
An umbilical cut neatly from stories of the past,
Leads the eye slowly
To a root
Imbedded in the mind of wondrous possibility.
Follow its line
The river of desire as it flows downward.
Like a waterfall of passion
That flows down the curves of her back
Toward some place of remarkable destiny.
A man’s mind can wonder in that vision,
His heart betrothed to the one who calls his name.
Seek that thread,
Like your heart’s string pulling you in its effervescence
The pools of truth washing you clean of distant thought.
A man will know what he must do,
Even if the mind sets to other directions,
He can always return to the thread of his fantasy.
What can be gleamed,
From a single strand of hair?
Attached to love’s great promise everything can be known,
Everything can be seen if one just opens his eyes
He can know love if he just opens his heart
She can know the warmth if she just opens her mind
Before she tosses her head back, and gone is the single strand of hair.
© 2019 Tom Grasso All Rights Reserved
We Know
She holds my hand
And I am instantly alive.
She strengthens what is strong,
Inspires me to heal what has cracked,
Collecting pieces of me I’ve left strewn about the field.
Voices say,
“Distance will never work
The continent between is your enemy.”
But they don’t know us.
They don’t know,
That as I swim in the pool of her eyes
That I have found a place that I wish to bathe forever.
The voices can’t feel
The sprinkle of moonlight that flows across my skin
When she touches me.
They can’t feel
How what was once uncertain seems so sure
How the sand becomes stone
How the mist of sea crashing across the stones
Becomes an ocean once again
In the moment when my ears hear her voice.
They can’t see
How my soul dances just at the very thought of her.
They can’t hear the music within me
That calls her name.
They can’t feel the spirit within me
Rise tall and fly high above the plains
Just for a chance to feel her arms around my waist
And her head on my chest.
Lover’s know
The certainty of this truth
For we pity those
Who have never felt God’s head
Nestled tightly against their shoulder
As Her fingers draw love poems on their skin.
Or felt the spirit of truth
Wash over them like a summer rain.
So while they say
“It can’t work”
We who love not from a place just of body or mind
But from a place they, and sometimes we,
Cannot understand,
We know differently.
We know a truth
That guides us through fire
Sees us survive the storms
Has us reach a summit
And a shore
That lovers would call Destiny.
Lovers know a truth.
We follow a star that sometimes only we can see.
Float in a breeze sometimes only we can feel.
Die a million deaths just to be alive the moment that we meet.
For what is never certain for many,
Cannot be more sure
For us.
I once saw the radiance
Born from once-again,
Alive in what I have never-known,
Until that moment when your light burst through the clouds
Holding me tightly in your array,
Speaking to me slowly in ways I could not understand.
Love demanded I learn your language,
And set me free from my ignorance,
Embracing poems and prose I wanted to comprehend,
Patience, I am no doctor, I reply,
Slow, I am falling and have no wings slow my tumble,
Love, Yes! And I begin to understand.
If I meet the ground
There will be no softness in the landing,
I’d rather fly and kiss the clouds with you,
Glide above the thunder and the lightning,
Tickle your soul with the Light from up above,
Taste you in the droplets of moonlight all around.
My mind knows the truth of my crashing,
The burning ground, debris scattered for all to see,
Yet here, I see a flower sprouting through the ashes,
Its fragrance overcomes the acrid smoke that’s in the air,
Like that moment when you touched my heart,
Made cracks in the armor that kept me ignorant,
Now filled with gold flowing from your fingertips,
I hold you close, we now see the clouds far below.
Now, we create a language all our own,
Foreign to some but known as truth within our souls,
Take my hand as I take yours,
Walk with me across the bridges
And ridges
Of the time we have remaining.
For I love you, and now I understand.
You called to me
I heard you standing in the forest
The blue skies hugging your form
Like a wedding dress
The billowy clouds dancing in the breeze
Like your veil
Begging me to your altar for a kiss
I was only too happy to oblige.
I climbed to meet you
Stumbled, fell, stood again
“Keep going,”
Said that fire burning within
“You may have come here faint of heart
But that is not how you will stay
For this love will see you strong
In this passion you shall endure.”
Now I have surrendered
Reaching for the ring
Praying to be bound by the promise
I heard when you called to me
When the ground began to shake
And a mountain rose before me
I saw your highest place
And I knew that I must go there.
Love rose high above the prairie
The moment you stood before me
Fraught with danger and blessed views
Filled with trails on which we struggle
And shady places we can rest
Here, the streams tell tales of springtime
And what’s blossomed in the altitude
Is truth. I love you so.
© 2019 Tom Grasso All Rights Reserved