writing to know, knowing thru being, being for writing... this is me, writing about the one thing i know, which is myself... and even that is sometimes a mystery...

Friday, August 12, 2005

for all those i've ever loved

awakened mid-morning
with tears in my eyes
a dream of you and sleeping
lingering with the night.

an image of you
watching me as i slept
a child in your home
an adult in a child's bed.

i wrote words that perfected
the feelings they birthed,
of the passage of time
and love undefined.

you came in december,
your shadow warm by my side,
and stayed through the new year
as i dwelled safe inside.

you reached out to touch me,
and adjust the covers round my head.
you, speaking thru folds
of the sheets on my bed.

and at last you adored me
with your hand you did show,
as you grasped onto my finger,
of your love i now know.

and as the morning's dawning
thru the window by my bed,
i scramble to immortalize
these thoughts and feelings in my head.

for though the tears have dried
and the dream's but a wind lost memory,
these words in back of kerouac will
remain fresh always with me.
~7:05 am 8/12/05


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